


A Change in Time

by IWantColouredRain



Category: Charmed (TV 1998)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-07-28 17:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWantColouredRain/pseuds/IWantColouredRain
Summary: Wyatt and Liz Halliwell are living (mostly) happy lives, barely bothered by demonic attacks. When they suddenly find themselves trapped in a dark world, all of that is gone, and they find themselves in a desperate fight against time and fate to restore the world they knew.





	1. Ominous Feelings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.**

**AN: What you need to know about this universe:**

**1) Christopher Perry Halliwell is Elizabeth Patricia Halliwell, and always has been.**

**2) Liz, in order to prevent the world collapsing due to a paradox, was forced to use a spell to replicate her Dark Future self's adventure in the past. As a result, the two versions of her merged, which had various effects, positive and negative.**

**3) She eloped with Niko (male!Bianca) the day after returning from the past (the spell she used brought her back, where Paige and Wyatt healed her). Niko also has memories of his other life, but not as vivid, because he was under the spell for a shorter time.**

**4) Liz is the heir to Excalibur, not Wyatt. I headcanon this, because I think the producers made Wyatt way over-powered/destined, and Liz/Chris proved to be a natural leader.**

**5) I refuse to believe that the child of a Charmed One and an Elder could only have telekinesis and orbing, while his older brother (who was conceived when Leo was a whitelighter, btw!) is able to conjure dragons at six months. You can find a list of Liz/Chris' powers on my Warren family tree on my profile.**

**Oh, I completely made up the addresses mentioned. If they're legit, I had no idea. Okay, that's everything I think. I hope you guys enjoy it! R&R to let me know what you think!**

**Chapter One**

**Ominous Feelings**

_ **Apartment 15B: Westbury Heights, San Francisco. June 12** _ _ **th** _ _ **, 2026** _

Wyatt Halliwell freely admitted that he wasn't a particularly clever person. In fact, he could probably be considered dumb. He often went charging headfirst into various situations without once thinking of the possible consequences. He had caused many a disaster over the years, most of which had been fixed by his long-suffering younger sister, Liz.

One action that he _didn't_ consider to turn out to be a catastrophe was when he married Emily Richardson. Granted, it had been a shotgun wedding, but he was now deeply in love with the blonde psychic. And although he'd originally been overwhelmed and terrified at the thought of becoming a father, he had since reconciled himself to it, and was now excited at the thought of it.

He was thinking about this as he looked around at the newly-complete nursery. All it needed were a few more toys, and some other small bits and pieces needed for infants.

He and Emily had bought a bigger apartment when they got married, Emily renting out her old one as a source of extra income while he had paid (with a bit of help from his parents, who were both furious at him getting a girl pregnant in a one-night stand and pleased at becoming grandparents) the required fine for giving up his lease early.

The apartment they had was still small enough, but cozy. It had a master bedroom for Emily and Wyatt, a small study with a couch-bed for guests and a room for the baby.

Because Emily didn't want to know the baby's gender, they had decorated the room neutrally. Phoebe had warned them that babies' eyes developed better with monochrome colours and stripes in the first three months, so the walls were covered in washable wallpaper (advice from Piper) that had large cream and light grey stripes going straight across it. The crib, changing table and wardrobe were all painted cream with a fluffy, white with black spots, circular rug laid down and covering the majority of the floor. A set of two cream shelves held several kids' books, and the zebra-themed toy chest could barely close, it was so stuffed with toys. Finally, a comfy rocking chair with a newly-made cream covering was placed in the corner. It had once been Emily's, just as the furniture (save the crib, which was brand new) had belonged to both Wyatt and his sister.

"What're you up to?" Emily asked him teasingly as she stepped inside, clutching a small cardboard box.

She was barefoot, with her blonde curls pulled back into a casual ponytail. Her cheeks were rosy and she was dressed in a simple maternity dress, yellow with peach flowers on it. Looking at her, Wyatt could completely understand the phrase 'glowing with pregnancy'.

He took the box from her. "You shouldn't be lifting things," he scolded her mildly. "Leave it to me."

Emily rolled her green eyes, although she did take advantage of her free hands to rub her back as she sat down on the rocking chair. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid, Wyatt," she retorted stubbornly. "It's just a couple of things from your mother. Anyway, you didn't answer the question. What're you doing?"

Wyatt shrugged, setting the box on top of the changing table. "Just thinking how excited I am for the baby to arrive," he grinned broadly, as he did every time that he thought about his coming child. Sometimes he almost felt like bouncing from foot-to-foot from excitement.

Emily beamed back at him, nodding in agreement and rubbing her baby bump gently. "Me too," she stated cheerfully. "By the way, who do you want as godparents? We haven't talked about it."

"My sister has to be godmother," Wyatt declared immediately. He was willing to let Emily decide on godfather for their child, but he wouldn't budge on this. Liz was his best friend, his closest confidante. When Emily had revealed her pregnancy, he had gone straight to his sister for advice. There was no one he trusted more than Liz. And he knew that she would guard his child fiercely, teaching and loving them while preventing them from getting spoiled. It had to be Liz.

Thankfully, Emily didn't seem to feel like arguing. She nodded simply, still caressing her bump gently. "Of course," she agreed. "Then we have to decide godfather. I was thinking either my cousin or Damien."

Wyatt hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his jaw. He was fond of Emily's cousin, Jason Radcliffe, but Damien was a good friend of his. They had known each other since infancy, when the Charmed Ones had saved the baby half-manticore from being taken from his mortal father.

"I'd prefer Damien, to be truthful," he admitted. "I know him better than Jace."

Emily nodded silently, her brow crinkled. "But Damien isn't the most, responsible, of people," she pointed out.

Wyatt grimaced, acknowledging that fact as the truth it was. Damien was a player, like Wyatt had been until Emily's pregnancy, and, like Wyatt, he wasn't the best at holding down a job. Wyatt always had the option of working at P3 or Charmed, his mom's restaurant, whenever he ended up getting bored with a job and quitting, but Damien didn't. The part-demon struggled to hold down a job, getting bored and slacking as he tried to entertain himself, only to end up being fired. At which point, he would retreat to his father, who would hunt down somebody willing to take on his irresponsible son, and the cycle would start all over again.

Neither of them had finished college, having tried several different courses before giving up and dropping out. Only magic made Wyatt content, and he would happily live his life entirely in the magical world if it had been practical.

Sometimes Wyatt felt jealous of his sister.

Liz was the apple of their parents' eyes, and seemed perfect at everything she did, whether magical or not. She had skipped two grades, gotten a Masters in Business and Cooking from Salem State University, and now helped their mother manage P3 and Charmed. She absorbed everything she read or heard, and supervised a Warding club twice a week at Magic School. Whenever one of the family, including Wyatt himself, had a problem, they went to Liz to fix it.

The only thing Elizabeth Halliwell had ever done wrong in the family's eyes was elope with a Phoenix. But their parents tended to blame Niko for that, refusing to lay the blame on Liz. If you believed Piper, Niko had taken advantage of Liz when she was vulnerable, using their shared memories against her. Piper conveniently ignored any evidence contrary to her beliefs, and it had caused more than one fight between her and her daughter. Only fear of Liz deciding to leave the family behind completely made their parents acknowledge Niko's existence.

But, in the long-term, Wyatt could never hold onto the jealousy.

Not when he caught her staring out over the city with a pale face, as if she was seeing another, much grimmer, scene. Not when she sometimes flinched when being touched, or disappeared into memories of a life that no longer existed.

Wyatt didn't know the details of what had happened in the other time, who the Source had been or how they had risen to power in the first place. When Liz was hit by flashbacks so violent she got sick, and nobody but Niko could calm her down, he didn't want to.

"Well, how about we think it over?" Wyatt suggested. "We don't have to decide right away. In fact, we should probably do the opposite. This is an important decision, after all."

Finally, after twenty-three years of life, Wyatt Matthew Halliwell was learning to think this through. Liz would be so proud, he thought to himself cheerily.

Emily nodded. "You're righ-"

Her voice faded away, as did the world around him.

The carefully decorated nursery turned bare and white but not a nice white. Instead it was the greyish-white of neglect. Mould crawled up the single-remaining curtain and peeling walls, and there was a hole in the corner. The furniture that had been placed in the room disappeared, leaving it bare save for a single, worn-out mattress and a rickety chair.

Wyatt gasped for breath, inhaling damp air that seemed as bleak as the world around him.

"Wyatt!" Emily's voice, filled with panic, suddenly managed to cut through the fog of despair engulfing him. The terrifying scene disappeared, replaced by Emily's face, her eyes wide with worry for him as she gripped the sides of his jaw.

"Wyatt!" she repeated. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

He swallowed and nodded, still shaken. "I, I'm fine." He looked around the room, trying to solidify the claim. "I'm fine," he repeated, the feeling of despair and grief easing away. "I was just- I'm okay now."

"Maybe we should call Liz," Emily suggested, still anxious. "You wouldn't answer me. You were just staring blankly for like, a minute. What happened?"

"I'm okay now," Wyatt insisted. He sighed at Emily's doubtful, worried look. "I'll talk to her and Dad at dinner," he suggested. "I just got a weird image. But I'm not psychic, so I'm probably just tired or something."

Emily still looked reluctant, but gave in. "Alright, but if you don't tell them, I will," she threatened.

Wyatt nodded in acceptance of the deal, then decided to change the subject. "How about we check out what Mom sent over this time," he suggested, picking up the box she'd carried in.

Emily smiled and reached out to lift the lid, and they spent the next while cooing and laughing over the old toys sent over by Piper. But despite everything, remnants of the sense of despair Wyatt had felt continued to linger in the back of his mind.

* * *

_ **Apartment 16A: Cayden's Way, San Francisco. June 12** _ _ **th** _ _ **, 2026** _

Something felt off. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was a familiar sensation, that of her Enhanced Intuition or psychic abilities whispering a warning to her. But despite knowing that _something_ was wrong, she couldn't pinpoint the source of it.

Liz gripped the iron railing of the balcony tightly, surveying the city view that spread out beneath her. It was so full of life.

The sky had darkened enough that the streetlamps were glowing, but some natural light remained. The sunset bathed the Golden Gate Bridge in a firey halo, and she could hear the sounds of chatter and cars coming from all directions.

This day in another timeline, the sky had been grey and overcast from smoke that came mostly from people being burnt by Pratt's Witch Hunters, the Bridge was a mangled wreck from the Battle of San Francisco and the noise was the screaming of innocents being tormented by his thugs.

She shook away the memories, turning her back on the view and pulling a hand through her loose brunette locks.

It never happened, she repeated her mental mantra as she climbed back inside the apartment. None of it happened, so stop dwelling on it.

If only things were that simple.

Inside in their bedroom, Niko was flipping through a spellbook, the small frown on his face and blank look in his eyes telling her that he wasn't taking in a word. Both of them had been feeling off all day, but neither of them could figure out what was bothering them. The only thing they knew was that they weren't being followed. Liz had checked multiple times using her Enhanced Senses.

"You okay?" she asked, leaning against the brightly-painted dresser. All of their furniture was eclectic and bright, as was the majority of their clothes, save for their demon hunting attire. An attempt to distance their new lives from their original ones, in which drab and bloodstained were the main 'fashions' for Resistance soldiers.

"I'm good," Niko answered flatly. It was obvious to Liz that he was lying, but she didn't call him on it. She knew what was bothering him, after all, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. At this point, she suspected they would just have to wait for whatever was coming. She hated doing that instead of taking action, but she couldn't confront an enemy she didn't know about.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair again and pushing herself off the dresser. "We'd better get ready to go," she murmured. "Mom'll be pissed if we're late."

Niko gave her a faint smile as he closed the book and put it aside. "Well, we certainly wouldn't that, now would we?" he smirked. "'specially as she'd probably take it as an opportunity to vanquish me for being a bad influence or something."

Liz snorted and grasped his lapels, pulling him down to her height to kiss him quickly. "Don't worry," she cooed mockingly after they separated. "I'll protect you from the scary lady."

"Scary lady with the ability to blow things up with a flick of her fingers," Niko reminded her drolly.

Liz snorted and tossed him a fresh shirt. "Move it, Firebird."

"Yes, Your Majesty."


	2. Family Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt tells his sister and father about his vision.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Enjoy chapter two, tell me what you think! **

**Also, I forgot to mention in my previous author's note: in this world, Cole was never possessed by the Source in S4 and Phoebe didn't get pregnant with demon spawn. The Seer became the Source and they defeated her. As a reward for helping defeat two Sources, the Elders made Cole into a witch with fire balls and fading (a form of energy-based teleportation). So he and Phoebe stayed together, having three daughters: Phaedra, Primrose and Pamela-details of their birthdays and powers are on my Halliwell Family Tree on my profile. **

**Paige is still married to Henry, though, cause, unlike Coop, I actually like Henry. They have twins Sage Patricia and Hazel Katherine Mitchell, as well as son Henry "Hal". Hal is adopted, but a witch with cryokinesis. His parents were witches whom were killed by a demon that the sisters were hunting. Again, details on my family tree.**

**And Wyatt's wife is the "cute little psychic" who stole his toy in Witch Wars, while his best friend Damien is, probably obviously, the half-Manticore baby from Little Monsters.**

**Chapter Two**

**Family Discussions**

_ **Halliwell Manor, 1329 Prescott Street, San Francisco: June 12th, 2026** _

Sunday dinners were a requirement for the Halliwell clan. Everybody was expected to attend, from Victor (who was getting on in years but was still much the same, though there had been a cancer scare when Liz was fifteen that had frightened them all enough to have Piper convince her father to move into the Manor) to the youngest member of the extended family, Phoebe's third daughter Pamela, who was thirteen and quite the drama queen.

No excuses, whether it be demonic-related or illness, were considered to be an acceptable reason for missing a dinner.

Liz herself had never missed a dinner, save for the year she spent as her alternate self back in the early 2000s. Even during the period when she had returned and promptly eloped with Niko, causing a cold war between the family, (Liz, Victor, Phoebe, Cole and their daughters versus Piper, Leo, Wyatt and Paige's family.) everybody still came. Even Niko had come, although it hadn't really helped the situation.

Now, though, the entire family had (grudgingly) accepted him, and the majority of the tension had evaporated from the dinners.

Today, however, Liz's spine was rigid with stress as she materialized in the conservatory, clutching Niko's hand.

Over the years, the family had put up dozens of different wards. Now, anybody who tried to magically enter had to be 'keyed', as it was called, into the wards. Otherwise they simply bounced right off. Liz had an amusing memory of when she was twelve.

Odin, a particularly stuck-up Elder, had attempted to orb into the Manor to demand the Charmed Ones deal with a demon attempting to become the new Source. He had bounced right off of the wards protecting their home, landing on his behind on the back porch. The family still had the photographs of it, and the memory never failed to make them all burst out laughing.

When she arrived, her Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry were there already with their children. Sage, their eldest and most-outgoing daughter, was facing off with them in what reminded Liz of a Mexican stand-off. The source of the argument appeared to be Sage's outfit, which consisted of a semi-transparent purple crop-top over a pair of low-slung jeans and heels. Paige and Henry evidently considered it too inappropriate for their seventeen-year-old daughter to be wearing. Peeking into the room from the sitting room were Hazel, Sage's younger and much-quieter twin and Henry Junior, more commonly known as Hal or Junior.

"Liz!" Sage cried when she and Niko appeared. "Some help, please? Tell these old geezers that there's nothing wrong with my outfit!"

"For Heaven's sake, Sage Mitchell," Paige growled. "Don't be trying to get your cousin to get you out of this! Go home and change, then come straight back. Don't make me tell you again, young lady."

Liz wondered what the Paige of 2004 would've thought, seeing herself in twenty years. There were a lot of differences, but at the core of it all Paige was the same as she had always been. Compassionate, strong, a dedicated witch and protector of the innocent, and wielder of a razor-sharp wit.

Liz quickly took advantage of the renewed argument to tug her husband out of the conservatory and into the kitchen. Piper was at the stove, crouching down to check on the roasting duck. She straightened up at their entrance, a broad smile breaking out across her face.

"Lizzie!" she cried in delight, hurrying over to hug her. Liz hugged her back, burying her face in the crook of Piper's shoulder. It was good to see her mother, even though she saw her regularly. They co-ran P3 and Charmed, with Piper steadily shifting more and more of the responsibilities to Liz as she grew older.

But Liz had never quite been able to get over her memories of the other world, where her mother had died when she was just barely fourteen, and it made Liz clung to Piper desperately.

The eldest Charmed daughter knew far too well how quickly the world could change, and even the life of a Warren witch could be snuffed out like a candle flame. The nagging feeling that something was wrong only worsened her stress.

"Is everything alright, honey?" Piper asked in concern, pulling away and cupping the sides of Liz's face. She forced a smile that Piper probably saw right through.

"Fine," she claimed. "Just tired."

Piper hummed and nodded, a gentle look in her loving brown eyes. No doubt she thought that Liz was having one of those days when the memories of her other life were strong enough that it was a battle to get out of bed.

They came and went irregularly, but they were always a challenge. In some ways, it had been easier to cope while in the past. The sisters and Leo had been different enough that she didn't have to struggle so much to push away memories of the versions she'd grown up with originally. When she did have those days, pouring herself into her mission had dealt with it. But since she had returned to the new 2020s, it was so much harder. The club and restaurant could only do so much, and demon hunting was depressingly easy nowadays, compared to her first life.

Piper's gaze shifted to Niko and she gained a mildly-frosty edge. "Niko," she greeted him politely, but without the warmth she spoke to Emily with. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good thank you, Mrs. Halliwell," he responded lightly. "Work keeps me busy."

Piper nodded in understanding, a hint of respect softening her cold air towards her son-in-law.

While Liz worked with her mother and dabbled in physics on the side, her husband worked as a member of the local SWAT team.

It suited him, really, allowing him to make use of his skills. Lynn had listened to her son when he came back in time, and hadn't raised him to be an assassin. But she _had_ taught him all of the skills he would've needed for the job, and he had excelled at them. He was already in line for a second promotion despite being only twenty-five. Most importantly of all, in Niko's eyes, it allowed him to make up for the crimes he had committed for the Source in their original timeline.

Liz, of course, didn't think he had anything to make up for. Unlike her, who had, in some ways, been as ruthless as the Source himself.

Niko had been forced into working for Lord Wyatt, after all. He hadn't done any of those killings willingly. And anyway, they had all been erased by the timeline changing.

Liz, however, had made sure to deal with everyone deemed a threat by the Resistance while in 2003. Including several mortals who had helped to find the Witch Hunter Inquisition. But she understood how Niko felt, so she never tried to dissuade him.

"I saw the news about that bank robbery the other day," Piper commented. "Were you involved in that?"

Niko nodded nonchalantly. "It wasn't as bad as it seemed," he told her. "Except for the leader and three of the group, they were all being forced into it. He was threatening their families. So out of ten, seven surrendered quickly when we stormed the building. One of the others got shot, and he's still under guard at the hospital, but the others are in custody. It turned out well. No casualties, thank the goddess."

"Well, I'm sure that Hal would love to hear all about it," Piper commented. "Why don't you head into the living room? He's in there with Dad and Hazel. Lizzie, peanut, do you want to help me with the dinner? I'm just sorting out the vegetables and gravy."

"Sure," Liz agreed. Niko pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and squeezed her hand softly, gave a respectful nod to Piper, then left the room. Sage's voice, raised in irritation, could be heard as the door opened briefly before closing again behind him.

Piper sighed. "Still going at it, then?" she asked, handing Liz a peeler and directing her towards the waiting potatoes on the green chopping board.

"Yup," Liz replied, popping the 'p'. "When'd they arrive? And how did Sage even manage to get out of the house dressed like that?"

"Around ten minutes ago," Piper explained. "She wore her coat over it."

"Ah," Liz murmured. She muffled a yawn against her sleeve, closing her eyes for a moment out of exhaustion. Piper reached out, pressing a hand against her daughter's arm.

"Sweetie, you know that you can talk to me about anything," she told Liz, who nodded simply.

"Of course I know that," Liz assured her. And she did. It was just a lot harder to rely on people now then it was when she was a girl. Before she had turned herself into the darker version of herself and everything (and yet nothing) had changed. That life was as vivid as this one. The instincts were stronger, in some ways, having been earned through harsher lessons.

Most of the time, Liz couldn't believe that she had only been twenty when she went time travelling, nor that nearly two full years had passed since she returned to the 2020s. She was physically twenty-three, twenty-four in November, yet it felt as if she were thrice that.

Piper sighed, running her thumb across Liz's cheek as she cupped the side of her jaw. "I love you, peanut," she said gently. "So much. No matter what."

"I love you too," Liz answered. They went back to working on the dinner, discussing light topics such as Piper and Leo's plan to redo the backyard and Liz and Niko's plans for their anniversary the coming month.

By the time the dinner was ready, the rest of the clan had descended on the house, and Liz was feeling much better. The sight of all of her family (alive and unharmed, unscarred by the horrors of war) were almost enough to get rid of the lingering feeling that something terrible was going to happen. Almost.

* * *

As promised, Wyatt pulled Liz and Leo up to the attic to have a quiet talk about the strange incident earlier that afternoon when dinner was over and everybody had dispersed into groups while waiting for the dessert to be served.

"What's wrong, Wyatt?" Leo asked him worriedly once they had reached the attic.

"Something happened this afternoon," he confessed, running a hand through his blonde curls.

Typically, Wyatt was a casual, cheerful guy. Nothing ever pulled his mood down for long. But the more he thought about the disturbing vision-like trance he'd gone into, the more freaked out he became.

"What?" Liz demanded sharply, crossing her arms and looking a mixture of stressed and angry. About par for the course when it came to Liz then. "A demon attack? Spell? What?"

"I don't know," Wyatt confessed. "It was, weird. Like a vision, but-not."

"You don't get visions, anyway," Liz pointed out. "Explain what happened."

"Describe it to us," Leo added. "What do you mean, 'like a vision'."

Wyatt chewed his bottom lip, trying to find the words he needed to explain what had happened. "I was in the nursery with Emily," he began slowly, frowning at the floor. "And then, suddenly, everything was different. The furniture was gone, the whole room seemed like it had been abandoned for years. And I felt this, awful sense of, despair. Like life itself was worth nothing. I just wanted it to be over. I don't know what. Emily said I was just staring at nothing for, like, a minute."

He fell silent again, and looked up at his companions. Leo was frowning thoughtfully, his arms crossed and a considering look on his face. Liz, meanwhile, looked outright disturbed. She was gripping her braid tightly, her jaw tight.

"Anything else?" her voice was almost hoarse, but not quite. Wyatt shook his head silently. She exhaled heavily. "I've had a feeling all day that something's wrong," she revealed. "Niko too. But neither of us can figure out what. We've tried everything to figure it out, and nothing." She shrugged, blatantly unhappy about that fact.

Wyatt ran his hand through his hair again, looking worriedly at his father. "What'd you think, Dad?" To his surprise, Leo didn't seem alarmed.

"You were in the nursery when this happened?" he checked. Wyatt nodded. "Thinking about becoming a father? Maybe worrying about messing up?"

Wyatt blinked in confusion, shrugging. "I was thinking about being a dad, yeah," he agreed cautiously. "I dunno that I was worrying about messing up, though."

"His ego's too big to think that he could ever fail at anything," Liz deadpanned, releasing her braid and flicking it back over her shoulder to let it hang down between her shoulder-blades. "Never mind the grades saying otherwise."

"Oh, haha," Wyatt pouted. He looked hopefully at Leo, who was smiling gently now. "You know what happened, then?"

"I think it was just your fears about impending fatherhood, whether conscious or not, overwhelming you," Leo told him gently, resting a hand on Wyatt's shoulder in comfort. "And I think that Liz picked up on your anxiety through your bond, and then Niko picked up on it from_ her._ It wouldn't be the first time you brought your nightmares to life, after all."

Wyatt flushed in embarrassment at the reminder of the (many) incidents throughout his childhood, then quickly hurried past it. "Are you sure it's that simple?"

When he glanced at her, he saw that Liz also looked sceptical of the offered explanation, though she didn't offer any other theories either. Seeing he was looking at her, she shrugged.

"It's possible," she stated evenly. "Niko and I haven't heard of any threats, either above or below. My cards aren't showing anything either, and I'd expect the Elders to alert us if they knew anything. It could be."

"So there's no need to worry?" Wyatt double-checked.

Leo smiled, gripping his shoulder comfortingly. "None at all," he promised. "I think this is completely natural, just you being anxious. It happens to everyone when they're preparing to have a child."

Wyatt felt his stress ease. "Good," he breathed. "The baby's due so soon, I really don't have time to be dealing with some Source-wannabe right now."

"Dessert!" Piper yelled up the stairs. "Hurry up or you'll miss your slices!"

"Coming!" Leo called back down.

A thought occurred to Wyatt, and he grimaced. "If I was conjuring my nightmares, does that mean that the baby will too?"

"Depends on their powers, obviously," Liz shrugged, tucking her hands into her back pockets.

"I'd better not mention that to Emily," Wyatt sighed. "She's frustrated enough with the baby randomly orbing her places and making her visions go haywire."

"Who knew that having a child could be so difficult?" Liz drawled sarcastically, neatly sidestepping Wyatt's attempt to swat her shoulder and rolling her eyes at him.

"Oh, it's worth all of it," Leo assured his children firmly. "Now, let's get back downstairs before all of the Baked Alaska's gone."

Liz smirked. "Oh, don't worry about that," she told them with a devious grin. "I cut a few slices and orbed them to my fridge at the apartment. If needs be, I'll let you have some."

"Well aren't you generous," Wyatt snarked, as they began traipsing back downstairs.

"You know it," Liz laughed.

Wyatt bounded down ahead, once again at ease after Leo's reassurance. Liz drifted to the back of the trio, frowning at the floor. Despite the perfectly reasonable explanation that Leo had offered them, she just couldn't relax.

Something was coming, she knew it. And when it came, it would learn what a big mistake it was to mess with Elizabeth Halliwell and the people she cared about.


	3. Time Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halliwell siblings prepare for bed, unaware that their world is about to change completely (literally)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. I'm going away for a week tomorrow, so I won't update until I come back.**

**Chapter Three**

**The Time Shift**

_ **Apartment 16A: Cayden's Way, San Francisco. June 12th** _ ** _ (11:23)_ ** _ **, 2026** _

Liz ran her brush through her hair automatically, staring at the mirror but not seeing her reflection. Although Catoptromancy, the ability to see what was currently happening in other places using reflections _was_ one of her powers, that was not what she was doing right then.

She was brooding, and she knew it. Memories of a life that had never happened intruded on her mind. She knew that some of her family didn't really understand why they affected her so much. After all, she had changed everything about that timeline. The two worlds and the people in them were unrecognizable when compared against each other. And Liz might have had memories of a life growing up hunted first by Meta the Titan and Witch Hunters and later by the Source, but she also had memories of a relatively peaceful childhood too.

But it wasn't as easy as simply dismissing the memories. In the past, her mission had distracted her from her PTSD, and whenever she had a flashback she simply went demon hunting to vent her grief and anger. Nowadays, she had to fill her time with work for P3 and Charmed, as well as the various projects she did, to cope. Sometimes, though, it simply wasn't enough.

The feeling of dread that had been haunting her for the past day and a half was bringing back memories of her original life, reminding her of the days that had blurred into weeks, months and years of fear. She had spent that entire life looking over her shoulder, waiting for an attack. More often than not, it had come. Heartbreakingly, it had frequently come from people she had once trusted, who had traded her in for themselves and their family.

"Liz," Niko's low, smooth voice broke into her increasingly dark thoughts. He waited until she met his gaze in the surface of the mirror to reach out and rest his hand on her shoulder. They rarely wrapped each other in embraces, and only tolerated short hugs from their family. Being restrained in any fashion brought back dark recollections that the people of this world, who had grown in comfort and safety, would never be able to comprehend.

They were both broken, but their jagged edges fit each other well enough that Liz couldn't bring herself to care.

"We'll work this out," he told her simply. No "it's alright" or "everything's gonna be fine". Both of them only got annoyed at that sort of false assurances.

She nodded slowly back at him. "Yeah," she agreed. "I'll just braid my hair, then I'll come to bed."

He leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Liz, meanwhile, finished pulling her hair into a plait and climbed into the bed, picking up the book on her bedside table.

In order to keep from dwelling on past mistakes and events that had never occurred, both Liz and Niko had a surplus of hobbies they used to distract themselves. One of Liz's was picking a historical figure or era, and investigating any magical impact on their lives and the results of that impact.

Currently she was researching Elizabeth I of England and Elizabeth's advisor, Doctor John Dee. From Liz's studies, she suspected he might have been an actual witch. If so, she was impressed by how daringly obvious he had been about his magic. Had the queen's favour turned against him, his enemies would have easily used his open interest in sorcery to bring him down. She thought, if she was right about Dee being a witch, that he might have used magic to help his queen defeat the Spanish Armada.

Despite her fascination with the subject, Liz still couldn't bring herself to focus. She stared at her page unseeingly for several minutes, her only reaction to Niko crawling into the bed beside her a quiet nod.

"Go to sleep, Liz," Niko urged her softly. "When we wake up, we can work on this thing. We'll figure it out, but we need sleep to focus properly."

"Fine," the Halliwell witch grudgingly gave in to her husband's pleas, knowing that he was correct. She snapped her book shut and placed it to the side, lying down and curling up against Niko's firm form. He rested his chin on top of her head, and she sighed. The calm, steady thrum of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep.

But her sleep was troubled, disturbed by dreams she couldn't remember after they ended.

* * *

_ **Apartment 15B: Westbury Heights, San Francisco. June 12th** _ ** _ (11:23)_ ** _ **, 2026** _

In contrast to his younger sister, Wyatt was much more relaxed after his conversation with Leo and Liz. He orbed home with his wife, informing her of the discussion and Leo's suggestion of the cause of his and Liz's unrest while they got ready for bed.

"Well, I'm certainly glad that Leo doesn't think that there's anything to worry about," Emily told him as she buttoned her nightshirt down over her heavily swollen stomach. "Having a new baby on the way is enough to deal with, without adding demons or spells to the mix."

"That's what I said to Dad and Lizzie," Wyatt agreed as he put his toothbrush back in its holder. "Speaking of, how's Little Mattie doing this fine night?"

"_Pippa_ is doing just fine, thank you," Emily countered primly.

Wyatt grimaced. "C'mon Em," he groaned, though there was no heat in his tone of voice. "You gotta stop calling our son Pippa. It'll give him a complex. Say it with me: _Matthew Philip Halliwell._"

"_Philomena Elizabeth Halliwell_," Emily retorted without missing a beat. "And it's you who's going to give_ her_ a complex. She'll end up a complete tomboy if you keep calling her a boy."

The couple stopped arguing and smiled at each other. They had been playing this game for months now, having decided from the onset that they wanted their baby's gender to be a surprise. Wyatt insisted they would have a boy, while Emily was adamant that the Warren penchant for girls would produce yet another daughter for the line.

"Well, if he's a girly boy or a boyish girl, we'll love 'em anyway," Emily declared, rubbing her baby bump gently. Wyatt reached out to press his hand against her belly, smiling in awe as he felt the baby kick in response.

"Completely," he vowed. There was nothing he would not do, no lengths he wouldn't go to in order to keep his wife and child safe.

They kissed before climbing under their duvet, curling into each other and quickly drifting to sleep.

* * *

_ **The Heavens: June 26** _ _ **th** _ _ ** (11:54), 2026** _

The Upper Regions, also known as the Heavens, were typically a peaceful place. A plane made of light, white clouds, marble halls and filled with a calming ambiance that could even make the legendary temper belonging to the Warren line settle down on occasion.

That night, however, it was not living up to expectations. Whitelighters sped around, delivering messages from one Elder to another, or else orbing to their charges, warning them of what was about to happen so that they would be prepared.

Of course, not all witches had Whitelighters for whatever reason, and yet it was one of those families that needed the connection to the Heavens the most.

"Why won't any of them ever answer us?" Jonnah growled. They had been urgently jiggling Paige Matthews, her twin daughters and both Wyatt and Liz Halliwell for most of the day, yet all of them had refused to answer. Most likely, the Halliwells had 'muted' their connection to the Elders in another fit of family-wide belligerence.

And with the current situation, none of the Elders dared to leave the Heavens to speak to the family personally, nor could any of the Whitelighters be spared. Anyway, the chances were high that any messenger would simply be sent away without receiving the opportunity to warn the Warren line of the coming peril. The witches were stubborn, and clung fiercely to grudges.

The most recent cause of their anger towards the Elders was that it had been the Elders who informed Liz and Wyatt of the other timeline, as well came up with the spell that had allowed Liz to complete the paradox. The family therefore blamed the Elders for Liz's current problems caused by the mental trauma of her other life, ignoring the fact that, had Liz not gone back, the paradox would have destroyed the world.

"We need to warn them," Sandra urged her peers. "They won't know what's going on. They won't know how to reverse it!"

"_If _it can be reversed," Odin added darkly.

"We cannot spare anyone to go and tell them," Kevin sighed. "We need every last bit of power we and the Whitelighters have if we want our plan to succeed. Not to mention the amount of time we would be wasting trying to get through all of the wards they have."

The Charmed Ones had first learned about wards from Cole Turner, during their struggle with the Seer-Source, and taken full advantage of them. Then, Liz Halliwell's counterpart had been an expert at warding, and once she had returned from the past, Halliwell Manor had gone from being the safest place in the world to being utterly impenetrable, as had the homes of Phoebe Halliwell and her family, and the Matthews-Mitchell clan, along with Liz and Wyatt's apartments.

If the Elders sent a messenger, the chances were that said messenger wouldn't even be half-way through the first ward by the time the Shift occurred. And that was the best-case scenario. Worst case, whomever was in the house would notice the attempt to breach their security and attack.

"We may be able to send them a message," Zola mused. "But _after _the Shift, instead of before."

The other Elders considered that thoughtfully, weighing up the pros and cons of doing such a thing. It would weaken them more, but it might give the Halliwells a fighting chance.

"It will take a great deal of power to make something from this timeline last after the Shift," Iota mused. "But we might manage it, if we didn't try to save all of the Halliwells from the Shift's effects. However, we would have to choose who not to preserve in exchange."

"We must make our decision quickly," Sandra added anxiously. She glanced around at her companions, her concern clear and shared by them all.

"All in favour of Zola's proposal?"

"Aye!" the Elders agreed. Sandra nodded and quickly moved on.

"Then whom shall we preserve?"

"Elizabeth Halliwell must retain her memories, of both timelines," Kevin insisted. "Her knowledge of time travel and alternate universes is unparalleled. It will be an invaluable asset."

The Elders nodded in agreement. In addition, while Liz didn't like them and made no secret about it, she was far more willing to be reasonable and listen to the advice and warnings of the Elders than most of her family.

"If we are saving Elizabeth, then we ought to save Wyatt as well," Jonnah reasoned. "They don't have the Power of Three, but as siblings they are stronger when they combine their power then when they are separate. In some ways, their Blessed power is even stronger than the Charmed Power of Three, given that it is more concentrated due to there only being two Blessed Ones."

The others Elders acknowledged his point. The Blessed Ones, the reincarnations of Arthur and Merlin, outstripped even their mother and aunts in terms of raw power. Combined with the allegiance owed by all magical creatures to the Heir to Excalibur and the fact that Liz and Wyatt had been raised immersed in the magical world, with knowledge of things that aided their magical development and the two siblings were certainly a force to be reckoned with.

"So we are in agreement then?" Zola checked. "We will combine our power to conserve the Blessed Ones, and use the remainder to leave them a warning of what has happened, and what they must do in order to reverse the Shift?"

"Aye," the other members of the Council all chorused in agreement.

At that moment, a strong wind began to whip through the Heavens, warning of the imminent Shift.

"Hurry!" Sandra cried. "Quickly!"

The Council rushed to clasp hands with each other, and they hovered several feet in the air, eyes closed as halos of light seemed to surround them.

Just as the clock struck midnight, the Shift, boosted by the power of the new moon, occurred.

Reality twisted and warped, changing almost beyond recognition. People who had existed were erased. Babies were born that were never supposed to live. The dead were revived, and those who had once lived suddenly disappeared. Lovers were separated, and families torn apart and remade.

In the midst of this chaos, only three people remained to recall the world as it had once been, and it was on their shoulders that the Elders placed the responsibility for restoring the world to its previous existence.

Several hours later, as the sun began to weakly shine through an overcast sky filled with grey clouds that seemed to radiate despair, Elizabeth Patricia Halliwell's eyes snapped open to an entirely different world to the one she had closed them too.


	4. Discovering the Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz and Wyatt wake up in their new world, and are incredibly shocked and worried.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. BTW, a warning, mentions of hypothetical (non-graphic) infant death and mother death. This is not a nice world that the Halliwells are now in! It's the dark future with a good Wyatt and a different Source. Expect violence, upsetting things, etc. Though nothing will be graphic, I wouldn't be able to write that. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Four**

**Discovering the Difference**

Elizabeth Halliwell awoke with a start. Overcome by a certainty that something, she didn't know what, was terribly wrong, the young witch fell back on instincts from her first life. Before her eyes had fully opened, she had rolled into a defensive pose. In her left hand, she clutched a knife that she had been holding beneath her pillow. In her other, she held a ball of crackling electricity raised to hurl at any enemies that might have surrounded her as she slept.

When she finally opened her green eyes and took in the room she was in, she was deeply disturbed.

The most important thing, of course, was that Niko was nowhere to be seen. It troubled her greatly, because she could never have slept through a struggle, nor would she not have at least felt him leaving the bed if he had done so willingly. She always at least felt it, even if it didn't fully wake her. Where was he?

The next question that was troubling her was similar. Where was _she_? She was in some sort of room. It seemed to have once been a home office, but was long-abandoned by its former owners, left to waste away under its neglect. The walls had once been blue by the looks of it, but had since faded to a greyish colour. Mould crawled up the walls in various places, and Liz spotted a rat peeking out of a hole in the left corner. The blinds had rotted away, and the broken window was covered by two damp sheets of cardboard to keep out the weather. The desk was in the best state of repair, and held only an old computer and a thick layer of dust. Liz had been asleep on the ground, resting on a long trench coat with a threadbare quilt to cover her, a rucksack serving as her pillow.

"What is going on?" Liz murmured under her breath, assessing the situation with a deep frown. She might have thought she had somehow been kidnapped, if not for the fact that she was unrestrained, and could freely access her powers. Although now she thought about it, it had been harder than usual to summon the electro-ball, as her friend Declan had jokingly named it in the first timeline. And it had not only been weaker than usual, but flickered out before she wanted it to, something that hadn't happened in a long time.

Liz bit her lip, surprised to break through a scab she hadn't realized was there. She coughed as blood filled her mouth, and swiped a hand across her chin to wipe it away. Then she stared at her hand. It was thin, thin in a way it had never been in her second timeline. You could count all of the bones, she was so malnourished.

For a second, Liz panicked, convinced that the entire second timeline had been nothing more than a blissful dream, and she was still a fugitive in the first, leading a worldwide guerrilla resistance while her elder brother and his lieutenants ruthlessly hunted her and all of her associates down.

The only thing that told her that was not the case was the sword lying within arms' reach of where she had been sleeping, its hilt covered by a dirty rag. Excalibur. If the second timeline had been a dream, if she had never time travelled, than Excalibur would be in Wyatt's hands, worsening the corruption of Gideon and the other various traumas in their painful and scarring childhood.

But Excalibur was with her, which meant that this was something else. The first thing she needed to do, then, was find out where her allies were, in order to discover what was happening. Liz shut her eyes tightly, reaching out with her mind in search of her family. Most of what she felt made her want to collapse in despair, but one thing fanned a flicker of hope in her chest. Two (and a half) presences, just down the hall from her.

Liz's eyes snapped back open, and she grabbed Excalibur before hastily making her way out of the room. She kept her guard up as she padded down the hall, noting a door leading into a kitchen and living area, a bathroom and a front door respectively. It definitely seemed like an abandoned apartment of some sort, though why it had been left to decay in such a manner, Liz didn't know.

She reached the room where she could sense the sleeping pair, and opened the door as quietly as she could, entering on light feet. 'You're as quiet, it's like you're a shadow or something' Aaron Carmichael, a trusted commander in her first life, and a mortal whom she had never spoken to in the second, whispered in her ear, giving inspiration for one of Liz's passcodes of 'Shaded Angel'.

She gave the bedroom a cursory glance, the quick sweep allowing her keen gaze to observe almost everything. It had once been a light colour, perhaps a soft yellow or dark ivory, but, like the room

Liz had been in, it had faded to grey from years without being cleaned. There was a double bed-frame in this room, but no mattress, Wyatt and Emily were sleeping on coats, like Liz had been, also with bags for pillows. They had a patched sheet to cover them, just barely. The two of them were closely entwined in an unconscious attempt to shield themselves from the cold of the room. Other than that, there wasn't much in the room. An empty wardrobe with one door missing, a vanity with a cracked mirror. These windows weren't completely broken like the ones in Liz's room, but they were cracked, and had only a thin, moth-eaten curtain tugged partly across.

Liz sighed and hurried across the room, crouching at her snoring brother's side. The sound of the snores worried her. While Wyatt always snored in his sleep, giving much ammo for teasing from family and friends alike, you could tell from the sound what state of health he was in. Right now, Liz had the sinking feeling he was sick, though not as ill as the time he'd had appendicitis and ended up in hospital when it suddenly burst.

Leo had been away, and Piper had dismissed it as a stomach bug. Leo, when he returned, had quickly realized what was actually wrong, but it had already burst by the time they reached the hospital in the car. As it was a natural illness, they weren't able to heal it magically. It had been the only time Liz had ever truly feared for her brother's life, and the then six-year-old girl had spent the whole time Wyatt spent in surgery sobbing into Piper's stomach that he was going to die.

Liz dismissed the memory and reached out to gently shake her brother's shoulder. His eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, accidentally dislodging his wife and making her cry out in surprise as she too startled awake.

"What the hell?" Wyatt burst out, taking in the room and his sister's malnourished frame in shock. His voice was croaky and hoarse, as if he gone days without water. Or he had been coughing badly.

You know things are bad when Wyatt Matthew Halliwell starts swearing, Liz concluded mentally. There was no mirth in her thoughts, though usually she found a dark humour in the way the second timeline's version of her brother couldn't even make himself say 'fuck', while she had used to wish that his counterpart's greatest flaw was a salty vocabulary.

Liz had never been vain, but she still had her pride (and quite a bit of it. She was a Warren witch, after all.), and keeping herself in a certain condition was not only part of that, but also helped separate her two lives. In the first timeline, she had been a ragged mess, dressed in dull, faded and patched fatigues with knotted hair and a dirty face. In the second, she kept herself healthy and well-put together, and was always pleased with that fact. She dreaded seeing herself in the mirror, if Wyatt and Emily were anything to go by.

Wyatt's hair was longer, and the curls tangled into a knot so bad, it would probably need to be cut. He was so thin it seemed like he was a skeleton with skin stretched tightly over the bones, and his usual healthy tan had been replaced by a gaunt, pale complexion, save for his cheeks, which were flushed a rosy red from fever. He wore a blue checkered shirt under a red hoodie, a pair of jeans, and he had been wearing his runners in bed. They had been sellotaped in several places to keep them together, but it wouldn't last much longer. The clothes were baggy due to his thin body.

Emily didn't good either. Her golden curls were also badly matted, and they looked nearly brunette from lack of washing. There were bags under her eyes that looked nearly black, they were so dark. She was wearing men's jeans, using an old winter scarf as a substitute for a belt and a faded knit sweater that stretched over her swollen stomach, which seemed a bit smaller than Liz remembered, though that could have been her worry making her see things that weren't there. The thing that worried Liz most about Emily's appearance, however, was how _small _she seemed. Emily was an artist, and very vivacious and cheerful. So far, the only problems with her pregnancy had been the baby's magic acting mischievously and ostentatiously. Yet now, Emily looked so weak, Liz doubted she would be able to stand on her own two feet. It reminded her uncomfortably of the pregnant women in the Resistance tunnels of her first life. A time and place with a mother-and-stillbirth rate equal to that of the late 1800s.

Liz didn't express her concern, however. They needed to get to the bottom of this, and if Liz expressed worry about Emily, and by extension, the baby, the couple would be distracted by panic. Liz wouldn't blame them for it, of course. But she had a sinking suspicion that time wasn't on their side when it came to dealing with this unseen enemy.

"I don't remember what happened," she informed her alarmed brother and sister-in-law. "Do you?"

"The last thing I remember is falling asleep at home after coming home from dinner with you, Him, and Mom and Dad." Wyatt replied, looking worried as he wrapped an arm around Emily's thin shoulders. "Em, what about you?"

"That's what I remember as well," she murmured, leaning against Wyatt. Wyatt looked down at her anxiously, clearly picking up on his wife's weakness.

Liz frowned, absently reaching out to press her hand against Wyatt's forehead to check his temperature. For once, she didn't correct her brother or scold him for not calling her husband by his name. "Me too," she agreed tensely. "Niko isn't here. I have no idea how this happened, my wards should be impenetrable. Wyatt, you have a fever. 101 degree, at least. Maybe higher."

"I feel like crap," he admitted. "And starving. Is there anything to eat while we sort this out? Em needs her strength."

Liz shrugged, trying to hide her stress. Emily looked near-tears already, there was no need to make things worse for her. Wyatt and Liz had grown up with demons being considered similar to homework in the Halliwell family, a necessary evil that nobody liked but was dealt with with varying levels of ease. Emily, however, had grown up as a regular witch in a half-mortal household. Her only power was premonitions, and they weren't particularly strong, either. Emily hadn't even interacted with the Halliwells much until she and Wyatt had hooked up at a party. As far as Emily was concerned, waking up someplace unknown, having been physically altered, was grounds for panic. Even Liz, who was the most controlled person ever to live, according to her family, was struggling not to panic.

"I'm not sure," she stated, resisting the urge to bite her bottom lip in thought. "I didn't search the place. I came straight here to wake you guys up after I sensed your presence. Check the bags, and I had one in my room too. We might have something."

If they did have any food easily accessible, it wouldn't be much, Liz reckoned. Their thin bodies and the pang of hunger she could feel denied the possibility. For once she was thankful that food had been so scarce in her first life. It meant that she was able to (mostly) ignore the agonizing pangs in favour of thinking as clearly as possible.

Wyatt, meanwhile, was rummaging through the bags. He finally withdrew half a banana, mostly brown, and stared at it in dismay.

"Just eat it, Emily," Liz instructed her absently, still thinking. "I'll find something proper later, but just have that for now."

Grimacing, as she had never liked bananas, Emily took the fruit from her husband and began to munch on it glumly.

Liz had begun pacing the room, but a wave of dizziness made her stop and place her hand on the vanity table to steady herself. When she did so, she suddenly fell into a vision.

_Beth kept her disguised sword at the ready as she stepped into the abandoned apartment. The door had opened easily with her telekinesis, and she could sense no signs of life inside. That didn't mean too much, however. Overconfidence in Paige's sensing ability had been the Charmed Ones' death._

_The apartment was in better shape than Beth had seen in a while, and was certainly spacious enough for them. Practically a palace compared to some of the places she had stayed in over the years. The only inhabitants of the building were some rats, and Beth made a note of their nest so she could hunt them later. Finally satisfied that the place was safe, she left again, sealing the door with a spell._

_She gathered her strength and orbed back to the old warehouse they had been staying for the past three weeks. It was drafty with a destroyed roof, and Wyatt was now sick from the cold. Beth had cared for him as best she could, but the fever still stubbornly stayed. Still, it wasn't too bad, and the apartment was far warmer._

_The warehouse, despite the draft and fallen-in roof, had been a good home for the past few weeks. But as Emily's due date crept ever closer, finding a place with some degree of warmth where they could stay longterm became more and more of a priority. Infant deaths were common (in contrast to the stories of their parents' youth), and Beth was determined to safeguard her brother's child as if it was her own._

_Emily was dozing when Beth arrived back, her most common occupation nowadays. The baby sapped what little strength she had, the infant unknowingly killing his mother. Beth hoped Emily would survive the birth, but they had all accepted the likelihood of her death. Emily had insisted from the onset that she would birth her baby, and happily die for him. Beth privately thought bringing a child into this world was far crueller than killing it in the womb, but she had said nothing. It was Emily's decision, even more than Wyatt's. Beth just hoped her brother could survive the loss of his love. If the baby died as well, then he definitely wouldn't._

_Wyatt, flushed red from his illness, was guarding the entrance. His gun was lying across his lap, and Beth tossed him a case of bullets she had come across while searching the building._

"_Well?" He asked hoarsely, opening the bullet chamber and refilling the four empty spaces._

"_I found a place," Beth answered tiredly. "Once Emily wakes up, we'll go. Then when we're settled in, I'll see about finding some more food."_

"_I'm sorry I can't help more," Wyatt sighed, his guilt clear._

_Beth smiled bitterly. "Not your fault that power-hungry bitch killed our family and bound your powers," she pointed out, her hatred for Her blatant._

"_Someday, she's going to pay for everything she's done," Wyatt vowed._

_Beth nodded. "Someday," she agreed. _

The vision ended, and Liz fell to her knees with an anguished moan of despair and grief. _'Killed our family and bound your powers'_ repeated over and over in her mind. Everything she had sacrificed, everything she had done, was all for nothing. All her work save for Wyatt's morality had been undone, and Liz had no idea how to fix any of it. She didn't even know what needed to be fixed.


	5. The Silent Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group heads to the Manor in search of answers

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.**

**Chapter Five**

**The Silent Manor**

_ **Abandoned Apartment, San Francisco: June 13** _ _ **th** _ _ **, 2026** _

"Liz? Liz, what did you see? Liz!"

Liz was broken out of her spiral of despair and infuriated grief by Wyatt's frantic voice. She blinked, coming back to herself and suppressing a wince at the state of her companions. Emily was in tears, watching worriedly from her seat on the bed, while Wyatt was artic-pale, looking on the verge of slapping Liz to draw her out of herself.

"Sorry," she croaked, running a hand through her hair and learning that it was badly knotted and hacked to her chin (probably with a knife) in the process. "I just-I'm sorry, it's fine now. I'm okay."

"What did you see?" Emily asked fearfully. "Did a demon do this?"

Liz bit her lip, then shrugged helplessly. "I dunno," she admitted. She glanced at the floor for a moment, organizing her thoughts. "Have you guys heard of the multi-verse theory?"

Wyatt shrugged, while Emily nodded, one hand rubbing her stomach protectively. There was a worried look in her eyes that said she suspected where this was going.

"Every decision a person makes leads to another universe where a different choice was made being created," Emily recited the basic outline of the theory.

"It's debated over whether it's _every_ decision, or every _major _decision," Liz corrected. "But yeah, that's the gist of it. When somebody time travels, they're deliberately interfering with the Angels of Destiny's plan. It takes a lot of power, and it's very dangerous. You can end up making things worse with a single misstep. That's why I had to become my original self and forget my second life entirely when I went to 2003. If I had kept my memories, even if I got the ones from my original life, I would inevitably have done something differently, and damaged the loop. It would have catastrophic consequences. Time travel is _not _something to do on a whim."

"Okay, but what does any of _that_ have to do with all of_ this_?" Wyatt interrupted her, waving around at their surroundings, his jaw tense and expression strained.

"I think somebody else time travelled, and created another timeline," Liz explained quietly. "One where evil is dominant instead of good. Somehow, we kept our memories though, and that couldn't have happened without outside interference."

"How can you know for certain, though?" Emily asked.

"I can't," Liz admitted. "But it makes the most amount of sense. I need to check the Book. I added some things while in '03 that might help. But first, Wyatt and I will search the apartment, see if there's anything we can use here. Emily, you stay there and rest."

It was obvious that Emily would have argued if she weren't so exhausted. As it was, she simply nodded in acceptance, leaning back against the headboard.

Liz's eyes caught on a glint of metal, and she swooped down on it, coming back up with the shotgun Wyatt had been holding in her vision. She quickly checked the bullet chamber, discovering that three remained, closed it again, and passed it to her anxious sister-in-law.

"Keep this with you," she ordered the older woman. "It's only got three bullets, so be mindful of that if it's used."

"You're not leaving the apartment, though!" Emily protested, wide-eyed. She was very anti-gun, and didn't even know how to use one properly.

"We aren't," Liz agreed. "But just in case. Call if you need us, we'll be back soon."

Wyatt kissed Emily's clammy forehead softly then followed his sister through the dank hall into a sitting room, as bare and bleak looking as the rest of the flat.

The green walls had faded, and (like the rest of the place) mould climbed the walls. There was dust everywhere, and it looked as if the TV (which looked like it dated back to the nineties) had been converted into a fireplace. There were a few picture frames depicting a happy, but poor, mixed-race family with two sons and a daughter. The entire place made Wyatt feel depressed. As a naturally happy person, he wasn't sure how to cope. When he looked out the window, the bare streets were as bleak as the apartment, with overflowing trash cans and an overturned, burned-out car.

Liz, on the other hand, seemed indifferent to their surroundings. Though, Wyatt knew his sister, and he realized that she was probably taking in every tiny detail, weighing its significance and piecing together a picture from the clues. He wondered if this reminded her of the original future, and whether or not she felt it made things worse or better for her.

Thank the gods, he thought absently to himself, not for the first time, that Liz was Heir to Excalibur, and not him. She was a far better leader than he was, or ever would be.

"Alright," Liz exhaled, twisting on her heel to face him, her expression grim. "Time to try out our powers, and see what we can do."

Wyatt shrugged, and casually waved his hand at the broken TV set, intending to lift it with his telekinesis. But it didn't budge an inch. Wyatt's eyes widened, and he tried again, and again, and again. Nothing happened. After his fourth attempt, he tried his other powers. But nothing worked. Not his orbing, projection, power negation. He couldn't even sense anybody anymore. It was utterly terrifying.

Wyatt was the most powerful witch alive, the eldest child of the Eldest Charmed One. All of his family were ridiculously over-powered, but he was the one who could conjure a dragon at six months. His Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Cole had tried repeatedly to get him to learn hand-to-hand combat, but Wyatt had always brushed them off. Why would he need to know how to defend himself, when he had his shield to block any attacks?

Now, stuck in a strange, dystopia-feeling timeline without his powers, Wyatt felt very vulnerable, for the first time in his life.

Liz was unsurprised. "It was mentioned in the vision," she told him grimly. "I was hoping I misheard. That's probably why we're carting around a gun. So that Em and you can defend yourselves if I'm not around."

Wyatt swallowed any useless protests, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "What about you?" he asked.

She grimaced and sighed. "Let's find out, shall we?"

As it turned out, Liz's powers weren't _gone_, but they were weaker than usual, and not all of them were available to her. She had orbing, electrokinesis, (regular) telekinesis, and pyrokinesis, as well as her empathy, enhanced senses and intuition and catoptromancy. But her telekinetic orbing, contact telepathy, aura sight, hovering, glamouring, apportation, molecular inhibition and cryo/hydrokinesis were all gone.

"What are we gonna do, Liz?" Wyatt asked his younger sister fearfully.

Maybe it was wrong that the older brother looked to the younger sister for guidance and reassurance, but that was how it had always been. As children, Liz had always been mature for her age. Everyone had commented on it. She was responsible and sensible, and was often left in charge of the younger cousins when their parents were dealing with demonic threats. And Wyatt couldn't count the amount of times she'd pulled his ass out of the fire. Over the course of their lives, Wyatt and the cousins' Plan A for any problems had become 'Go to Liz'.

Liz's forehead was sweaty and her breathing heavy from the strain of trying to use her powers, but she was calm enough to consider what their next step was.

"We need to figure out what happened to alter the timeline," she stated decisively. "And preferably who shielded us. Then we can plan how to reverse it."

"So how-?"

"The Manor," Liz cut him off, starting back towards the hallway. "Hurry up!"

Wyatt rushed back to the bedroom to get his wife, while Liz began gathering up anything that appeared useful in some way.

* * *

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: June 13** _ _ **th** _ _ **, 2026** _

"It feels different," Wyatt commented once they had reappeared in the Manor's back garden.

It was heavily overgrown with weeds from years of neglect, and Emily hissed as her arm was scratched by a thorn. He gave her an apologetic look, pulling her close to his side in a protective embrace and wishing he could heal her. He'd tried, on instinct, but thankfully for his pride, nobody had noticed his failure.

"What does?" Liz asked distractedly, scanning the area with her powers and eyes.

"Your orbing."

"Makes sense," Liz answered. "Memories make you who you are. We're inhabiting the bodies of people who are us physically, but mentally they're different, and your mental shape is a key part of your magic. So seeing as the magic is, for lack of another word, being borrowed from my counterpart, it's logical that it feels different, seeing as so is she."

"Did you understand any of that?" Wyatt muttered to his wife. She shook her head, looking as bemused as he felt. It was a frequent feeling around Liz, who was a prodigy with magic and, well, everything it seemed. Her knowledge had only increased after 2003 and gaining access to a whole other lifetime's worth of knowledge.

"There's a ward up," Liz announced finally. "Well, several. Most are similar to the ones Mom and the aunts had set up in 2003 for demons and warlocks, but one is newer and more powerful than the rest. It keeps out _everything_. Good, evil, mortal. Everything."

"So how do we get inside, then?" Wyatt questioned her. Liz hesitated, looking uncertain.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's complex, and tied into the other wards. I could try pulling them down, but that's risky. Plus, it would wear me out, leaving you guys without protection. I-"

"What about saying open sesame," Wyatt suggested, before they all ended up with headaches from her habit of complicating everything by thinking of every scenario (or trying to, at least). Liz gave him a scathing glare.

"This is serious, Wyatt!" she snapped. "We-"

"The Power of Three," Emily spoke up. They looked at her, eyebrows raised identically.

"Try using the Power of Three spell," Emily elaborated. "You know the one. The Power of Three will set us free? It's your family's most important spell, and your parents must have wanted you guys to be able to get back in again."

"I guess it's worth a shot," Liz decided after a moment of internal debating. She reached out to clasp Wyatt's hand and placed her other hand on Emily's stomach. "To strength the spell," she explained briefly at their looks. Then she began chanting. "The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free!"

She finished the third repetition, and a blue dome flashed around the Manor, before disappearing. Liz quickly scanned the place again, and gave a satisfied smirk. "Good work, Em," she told her sister-in-law, before starting towards the house, her companions at her heels. Wyatt held the shotgun awkwardly.

Liz glanced over her shoulder at the others as she reached out for doorknob of the conservatory, using her telekinesis to unlock the door as she spoke. "Stay behind me, close. Warn me if you see anything, even if you think imagined it. Especially movement."

"Liz," Wyatt swallowed. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Could this be, your-?"

"No," Liz stated definitively. "It's not. Trust me."

"Always."

Liz nodded and led them into the conservatory. It was like they had entered a world frozen in time.

The siblings must have been young when their family in this universe had fled the Manor. Toys were strewn haphazardly across the floor, several dolls and toy soldiers left abandoned in the midst of a game. A basket of clothes lay on its side with its' contents spilling out, as if it had been knocked over and ignored. On top of that, the vases were filled with dead flowers. Knowing Piper, something terrible must have occurred for her to leave her home in such a state. She and Liz shared their clean-freak tendencies.

Liz wandered over to the window and stared at it, clearly trying to get a vision. Wyatt crouched beside the toys, reaching out to pick up a doll and examine it with a frown.

Emily, meanwhile, picked up a picture frame and stared at it. It was similar to many of the photos of Wyatt and Liz growing up that covered the halls in the Manor of their timeline, but there were subtle differences.

Wyatt seemed to be around seven, and his sister couldn't have turned six yet. They were both thinner and more solemn in the picture than the ones Emily had seen, and their clothing wasn't as well-made. Wyatt's jeans had been patched, and Liz's shirt was faded to the point that it would have been tossed in their universe. And when she looked around, Emily saw that the furniture was threadbare and had been repaired by hand several times each.

The Halliwells had never been rolling in the dough, as the saying went, but they were comfortable. The whole family pooled their resources, as they did everything else together. Piper's restaurant and club made a steady income, as did Phoebe's writing and Cole's work as a lawyer. Henry's income as a parole officer wasn't great, but it did fine, supplementing the lack of income from Paige and Leo's jobs at Magic School. Emily wondered why there was a discrepancy.

Liz gave up getting a vision and they gathered together in the middle of the room, where Wyatt showed the doll to his sister. "Looks like something Dad made," he pointed out as Liz took it to examine it herself. She nodded in agreement.

In the original timeline, Leo had been too busy with Elder duties to remember his daughter half-the time, let alone make her a doll by hand. In the second, however, he had made several toys from scratch for both of them. Liz still had them boxed up in the attic, waiting to be passed down to her own children, while Wyatt had some of his old toys in the nursery set up for the baby.

Emily showed them the photo, and the siblings exchanged quick looks, having picked up on the same things she had. Their lives had apparently been quite different in this version of the world.

"What now?" Wyatt wondered, looking to Liz for guidance.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and pointed upwards. "When in doubt, go to the attic," she shrugged.

Wyatt gave a weak grin before grasping his wife's frail-feeling hand and pulling her after him.


	6. Attic Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally learn a bit of what happened.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.**

**Chapter Eight**

**Attic Answers**

_**Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: June 13****th** **, 2026**_

They took the stairs instead of orbing, so they could see the rest of the house. As they passed by his childhood bedroom, Wyatt paused to peer inside. Again, you could see signs that their family had left in a hurry.

The drawers had been ripped open, with clothing taken quickly and the pieces left behind falling out of the drawers. A teddy that looked like Wuvey, only less well-cared for, lay abandoned on the floor. A set of battered bunkbeds that looked to have been made and painted by hand were pressed against the wall, the sheets left unmade. Given the top bunk had cars on the sheets while the bottom had white sheets with multi-coloured polka-dots on them, Wyatt assumed that he and Liz had been sharing a room.

That itself was another clue to their lives in this world. If he and Liz had been sharing a bedroom when old enough to sleep in full-sized beds, then at least one of his aunts, possibly both, had never gotten married and moved out. Which, in turn, would mean that his cousins didn't exist either.

Wyatt looked at Liz, who had a solemn expression as she turned away from where she'd been peeking into her own former bedroom. Glancing past her, Wyatt spotted two unmade single beds.

"I can't get any sense of the kids here at all," Liz admitted, picking up on his silent question. "I don't think they ever existed."

Wyatt swallowed and clenched his fists tightly as grief welled up inside him. It was obvious that the versions of their parents and Aunts were dead here, too. Liz would have suggested teaming up with them first if she could sense them. And he couldn't imagine his parents leaving them behind when the world was falling to pieces all around them. He couldn't bring himself to actually ask though, as if hearing her confirm that his beloved family was gone would make this turn from a bad nightmare to reality.

"We should keep going," Emily encouraged them. Wyatt's worry increased at her weak voice and the way she leaned against him for support. She was light as a feather, and he could count each of her ribs. He had never lamented not putting any effort into study first-aid like Liz and the cousins so much before.

He helped his sickly wife up the stairs, ignoring the pain in his own chest and the slight difficulty in breathing he felt.

They briefly checked out the master bedroom. Like the others, it was a mess from a rapid, unplanned departure. The closet doors were open, drawers upended, and clothes and other items were strewn in piles over the bedspread and piled in untidy heaps under the window.

Liz sighed tiredly as she looked around, chewing her lip. Then she went stony and reached out, orbing them the rest of the way without a word.

Wyatt looked around glumly when they materialized in the magical centre for the Halliwell clan.

Like the rest of the house, the attic was frozen in time. A cauldron was set up with stains from an old potion clinging to the insides. Mouldy ingredients and dirty potion-making tools lay scattered on the countertop and several inches of dust coated everything, turning the room grey and making Emily and Wyatt cough. The chest where they kept their weapons was open and empty, the bookshelves were missing ones in the other timeline, and, most importantly, the lectern was empty.

"What do we do now?" Wyatt wondered, glancing anxiously at his sister, who was frowning at the bookshelf. "The Book's not here."

"Yeah, I can see that," she sniped, running a hand through her cropped waves as she struggled to think. The bookshelf was bothering her. Their family must have taken the missing books, but which ones had they taken? And why did they choose those ones? It _must've_ had some significance. When fleeing a place hastily in fear for your life and that of your family's, you didn't choose what to take based on sentimentality, you chose based on necessity. Liz knew that from years of living as a fugitive, surrounded by people who would willingly trade her life for theirs and their families. Which books were taken, and why? And why would they take the Warren Family Tree? Or was it simply hidden in the mess that had once been the most-frequented room in the house?

"Liz," Wyatt pressed. "What're we going to do about the Book of Shadows?"

"Do you think it's been destroyed?" Emily asked fearfully. Both Halliwells promptly denied that possibility.

"As long as Warren magic remains, even if it turned evil, so too will the Book of Shadows," Liz informed the other woman. "It's not just an old book of spells like most grimoires are, it's a physical representation of Warren magic. I still have my magic, even if Wyatt's powers are bound, so the Book _can't_ have been destroyed."

"Then where is it?"

"The family must have taken it with them when they left, and hid it somewhere for whatever reason," Liz said slowly. In the first timeline, when she had fled with her youngest (and by then, only) cousin and grandfather, she had wanted to take the Book. But the Manor was already swarming with demons, and Victor had urged her to leave it behind.

"_We need to go, Lizzie!" she remembered him insisting desperately, over the sound of demons cackling in malicious satisfaction as they broke through her hastily-made wards and Pam sobbed in fear in their grandfather's arms. "Leave the damn book! It's not worth our lives!"_

She'd agreed, and they'd left just in time. The final ward had fallen just after they orbed away. It had been years before she'd seen the family's most treasured heirloom again.

"I have a spell," she finally turned her attention to her brother and sister-in-law. "I used it in my first life to steal the Book from the Source."

They nodded, and not for the first time Liz was amazed at how she and her parents and aunts had managed to hide the details from Wyatt and the others so successfully. He knew that she had been the last Halliwell and a war leader, that magic was exposed by the Titans and Paige died before Liz's birth, that Meta had escaped the remaining Charmed Ones' grief-fuelled wrath for more than two years before finally being vanquished. He even knew about the Witch Hunters and how Leo had left Piper to be an Elder even before Liz was born.

But Wyatt had _no. idea_ that his counterpart was the Source of All Evil who haunted his baby sister's nightmares. Only Niko, Victor, Liz herself, the Charmed Ones and their husbands knew that. If Liz had it her way, that was how it would stay.

She shook the thoughts away and strode over to the lectern, taking a deep breath to fortify herself as she recalled the last time a version of her had used the spell.

"_Niko!" she cried, pausing before the glowing portal and taking a step back towards him as he fought off the guard that had just appeared. Her sensing alerted her to a force about to descend on the Manor. A force much too large for Niko to fight off alone. _

"_Go!" he called back at her, flipping the demon over his shoulder and jabbing at its stomach with his athame._

_Liz hesitated, her stomach twisting in indecision. If she didn't leave now, she would never get another chance to do so. If she did leave, gods only knew what would happen to her fiancé._

"_GO!" he repeated, as another guard appeared, the shimmers in the air a warning that more were on the way. Hating herself, the Angels of Destiny, and her brother most of all, Liz went. She turned her back on the only person she had left and abandoned him to his fate in the name of saving the world by throwing herself through the portal. An energy ball hit her shoulder-blade as she fled._

Liz hoped this time would go better.

"I call upon the ancient power, to help us in this darkest hour," she chanted lowly, her fingers curled tightly on the edges of the lectern. "Let the Book return to this place, claim refuge in its rightful place."

There was a flash of light and her family's Book of Shadows, not as thick as the one in the second timeline, but thicker than it was back in 2003, landed with a thump on the lectern.

"I wonder where it was," Emily mused quietly, as her sister-in-law began quickly flicking through the cherished heirloom.

Liz managed to hide her spine stiffening at the sound of Emily's voice. She was very fond of her brother's wife, and _very_ appreciative of how his marriage and impending fatherhood had made Wyatt settle down and start taking things seriously, instead of treating life and his responsibilities as a game he couldn't lose.

But the fact remained. Emily had been brought to the other world with them, whilst her sensing had revealed that_ Liz's_ husband was in Salem, his presence altered in ways she couldn't quite pin down. Why had Emily come, and not Niko? It wasn't fair. Niko would've been an _actual_ help in this situation, whilst the coldest, most calculating part of Liz's mind had laid out a dozen different ways that the sick and pregnant woman was a hindrance.

She forced those cruel thoughts away as best she could. Emily had been as surprised as the rest of them to wake up in this god-awful timeline, and she would never have wished for it. And the Niko of this universe was alive at least. Though she feared from the change in his familiar aura that he might be evil. She just hoped it wasn't so. She'd never been able to bring herself to harm him, even when they'd first met and he was an assassin sent by Wyatt to either capture or kill her. Though, should they manage to reverse the timeline quickly, she wouldn't have to fight her lover.

But Liz soon realized that things wouldn't be that easy. She'd assumed that they were in a reality that split from after her time travelling to 2003, something that now dawned on her as foolish. None of the notes or information she had added to the Book whilst in the past were there. Meaning that, in this timeline, she had never been back in time.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, glowering at the Book. She had spent hours writing in everything she knew about time and dimension travel, its dangers and spells to make it possible or to see into other worlds. She had then covered it with a spell, ensuring that it could only be accessed with great need. And yet, she couldn't find a _single_ page of it in the Book. "Shit, shit, _shitting hell_!"

"What is it?" Wyatt demanded, worried by her reaction. He had been going around with a dusty knapsack, filling the bag with anything that looked like it might be usual, until his sister's stream of swear words distracted her. She looked up and grimaced at them grimly.

"The info I wrote on time travel and other timelines isn't here," she explained. "Nor is there any sign of my past self's notes. Meaning none of my supply stores are here either. This timeline must have diverged before I time travelled, erasing the need for it in the first place." She growled in frustration and ground her teeth. Then, when that wasn't enough to ease her temper, she slammed the side of her fist down on the hard wood of the lectern. "Damn it! How're we gonna figure out how to fix this mess now?"

"What about Magic Sch-?" Emily began to suggest, but was cut off by the Book's pages flipping rapidly, on their own, to the very last page.

Liz read the spell then raised her eyebrows, her anger fading into thoughtfulness. "Huh," she muttered, tapping her chin. "That's interesting. I guess that shows who protected us. Makes sense. Nobody else save the Charmed Ones would have that much power, and Mom and the Aunts would've warned us first if they knew this was coming."

"What?" Wyatt asked in bemusement.

"The Elders," Liz explained, nodding towards the page. "And it seems like they left us a message, too."

"What if it's a trap?" Emily fussed, one hand rubbing her stomach protectively. She had taken a seat on the chaise, and looked like she was conscious through pure force of will. The dangerously pale pallor of her cheeks worried both Liz and Wyatt, who again cursed his helplessness. He hadn't realized how much he relied on his powers until he'd lost them.

Liz shrugged. "I doubt it is," she stated matter-of factly. "The Book wouldn't let itself be used to harm us. And if it _is_ a trap, then I can handle whatever threat attacks us."

"Are you sure?" Wyatt asked anxiously.

Liz was a good fighter, but she rarely had to fight alone. Then he suddenly remembered that she had memories of a life lived as a fugitive and a general, when she gave him an almost dead look. It was the same look that crept into her eyes whenever the topic of the other timeline came up and that kept the family from pressing her for more details then she volunteered.

Most of what they knew came from Niko, actually. Having spent less time under the spell, he was more distant from the pain of the first timeline, though Wyatt knew it haunted him as well. It was one of the main things that had lessened the family's resentment towards the man Liz had eloped with so unexpectedly. That and how obvious it was that Liz meant everything to him.

"I'm sure," Liz stated flatly. She paused, then signalled with her head for Wyatt to stand back, closer to his wife before glancing down to read the spell. "I call forth, through time and space, an echo of another place. Let the walls of time break, and the barrier to heaven open without a shake."

Sandra was the Elder who appeared, her form as translucent as an incorporeal ghost and her expression a mixture of grimness and relief. "Thank goodness that you found our spell," she began. "But there is not much time."

"What happened, Sandra?" Wyatt stepped forward. "_How_ did this happen?"

"Someone, we know not who, intervened in history," the Elder explained gravely. "They altered it as thoroughly as you did, Elizabeth. We don't know how, or why. We only just had time to combine our powers to preserve the both of you-"

"The both of us?" Liz cut in sharply. "What about Emily? Why is my pregnant sister-in-law who has no active powers save premonitions here instead of my husband, a trained and powerful warrior who once held the most powerful Source in history at bay for three minutes, lasting longer than anyone else save me ever managed to?"

Emily and Wyatt winced. They had both noticed Niko's absence, of course, but were too focused on each other and the situation to care overly much. And Wyatt went to great lengths to avoid his brother-in-law (something Niko copied), meaning that he hadn't fully registered the implications of his absence.

Sandra gave the heir to Excalibur (who was gripping the hilt of her sheathed sword in tight frustration) an apologetic look.

"We did not plan to preserve Emily's memories," she informed them. "We planned only to preserve the memories of the Blessed Ones. I assume that the baby's magic, which is mixed with both of its' parents' until birth, is the reason that she was brought along. The spell linked to the child, and from the child to its' mother. I am very sorry."

Liz still looked angry, but she gave a curt nod of acceptance and changed the subject. "You said that you don't know who, how or why history was changed," she stated in a tight voice. "But what about _when_? Do you know that, at least?"

"We do," Sandra nodded solemnly. "History changed on May 1st, 2001. Prudence Halliwell was never murdered by Shax in this reality."


	7. Empress of Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the enemy. (Or one of them, anyway.)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. I'm glad people are enjoying this. Reviews are always welcome. My holidays are over now, so updates won't be as frequent, but I never start something that I don't intend on finishing, regardless of how long it takes.**

**Chapter Seven**

**The Empress of Earth**

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: June 13th, 2026** _

The three witches were stunned silent at Sandra's announcement. Of all the possible divergence points, the thought of their Aunt Prue's death had never crossed Liz's mind. Maybe it should have, given what an important event it had been for the Charmed Ones, but it simply hadn't. And it confused her too. How could saving the firstborn Charmed Sister have _helped_ evil? Prue had been devoted to her duty as a good witch, and even more power than Piper. Liz couldn't understand it.

Wyatt was evidently wondering the same thing, because he spoke up. "Aunt Prue survived Shax's attack? How did that lead to the apocalypse?"

"It wasn't an _apocalypse_," Liz couldn't help but correct him. "An apocalypse is the end of the world. The world's in ruins right now, but it isn't completely destroyed. Not yet at least."

That small but vital difference had been a keystone for the morale of the Resistance in the first timeline. The world was more battered than it had ever been before, but it wasn't destroyed completely. As long as it wasn't the apocalypse, they still had a chance to save it.

Of course, eventually Liz had given up, deciding that the damage was just too bad to be salvageable. But before that, everyone had clung to the hope of restoring the pre-Titans world. Even though most people couldn't even remember it, and only knew it from reminiscing by grizzled old veterans who made it all seem like paradise. Their hope had kept them going.

Wyatt didn't know about any of that, however, and he just rolled his eyes at her. "Does it really matter?" he huffed at her, turning back to Sandra. "So, do you know anything else? What about our family?"

Sandra looked pained. "There is little more for us to tell you," she admitted. "We know very little ourselves, unfortunately. As to your family, the Charmed Ones of this timeline have been dead at least ten years, if not longer. We believe they went to confront the Source, and died in the attempt. Your father is dead also, but he seems to have survived longer. Four or five years, we believe, though we cannot say for certain."

"As helpful as ever," Wyatt growled. Emily gave him a disapproving look, still petting her swollen abdomen to try and soothe her restless baby.

Sandra's form flickered briefly before solidifying again. "There is little time remaining," she stated hurriedly. "The spell is starting to fade. Listen to me. The divergence point is May 1st, 2001, and you must go back there. But when Divining what you must do to restore the correct timeline, we Saw you in the Halliwell Manor, on November 3rd, 2010. That is the date your family in this reality was forced to flee the Manor, leaving the Nexus without its' guardians. As Elizabeth knows, whomever holds the Nexus controls its' allegiance. You must go back to that date first, and gain aid from your family in that time. Finally, you must go to the version of Elizabeth's husband in this timeline and get help from him. Without them you will fail! You mus-"

But before she could finish her instructions, her form, which had been growing more and more transparent with each word, finally disappeared. The attic seemed ominously dark as the three of them stared worriedly at one another.

* * *

_ **The Source's Palace, Loire, France: June 13th, 2026 ** _

The Source of All Evil and Empress of Earth and its adjoining dimensions, swept through the halls of her palace.

The castle was formerly the castle of the Loire in France, but had been expanded into a fortress and modernized. It was filled with beautiful paintings and magical relics. And, of course, the occupants were not human. Or rather, the humans there were no more than slaves and entertainment for the demons who served the Empress. She herself only tortured people for necessity, finding torture for pleasure rather boring.

She made her way through the elegant halls, her long black skirt trailing after her on the red velvet carpet. Everyone she passed instantly fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads against the ground and hoping she wouldn't notice them.

Upon arriving at her study, the Empress waited impatiently for her guard, an Upper-Level darklighter named Sykes, to open the door for her before she strode inside and took a seat in the throne-like chair behind the elegantly-sculpted desk.

The room was decorated similarly to the rest of the fortress. The walls were a deep crimson, with oak furnishings covered with elaborate carvings, a black marble fireplace was against the left wall. The window was placed across from the fireplace, with the desk positioned so as to keep any snipers from being able to harm the Empress. Finally, there was a single painting in a gold frame.

It showed the deaths of the Charmed Ones and their husbands (though Cole Turner had died even before Piper had her first child and Leo Wyatt had survived for almost five years longer than his wife and sisters-in-law, before sacrificing himself to save his children. The painting had blended all of the different deaths into one, making a bloody image that grieved anybody Good who laid eyes on it). It always made the Source smile in triumph when she saw it, reminding her that _she_ had been the one to finally defeat the supposed 'most powerful witches ever'. Nobody else, only her.

"Where is Izax?" she demanded from Sykes, who was kneeling in the corner. "I ordered he be here to attend me! There is business to be discussed."

"Your Majesty, Izax was in the dungeons when you sent for him," Sykes explained, almost babbling due to fear of her temper, which was legendary even before she became the Source. "As you know, the wards in this castle do not allow for magical transport on its grounds, as such he has to walk from one side of the building to the other, and of course, there are twelve staircases to be climbed. Therefore-"

"Sykes," she cut him off in a sugary-sweet voice that had him going silent and swallowing nervously in fear. It made her grin a vicious smile filled with malice.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" his voice was barely a whisper.

"Do you think me an idiot?" her voice was cheerful, friendly even, as she spoke.

He shook his head hastily.

"Do you think that I tolerate excuses from my subordinates?"

He shook his head again, trembling in suppressed fear of the power radiating from the black-clad woman.

"Good," the Empress smirked before raising her hand and clenching it in a tight fist. The darklighter choked, clasping his hands over his heart. She twisted her wrist, he let out another choke...and died.

The Empress was left staring coolly at the ring of black that was all that remained of her guard. She removed her attention from it as there came a knock on the door, making a mental note to have a slave clean up the mess when she was done.

"Enter!" she barked. The door opened and Izax walked in, kneeling in front of her desk with a head bowed in submission.

The Source studied him with a sneer.

Izax had been a mid-level demon, but his ability to steal powers, inherited from his warlock father, had given him an edge. He was now an upper-level with great influence, as he had been one of the first to swear allegiance to the Source when she had taken in the spirit of Evil. The Empress had chosen him for a vital task, and she was losing patience with his inability to complete it.

"Do you realize why I have summoned you, Izax?" she asked in a soft, deadly voice.

"I suspect so, Great Lady," he replied submissively.

"And why do you think I called for you?"

"I am failing you, Mistress," he admitted. "A year ago you entrusted me with the responsibility of hunting down and capturing the Halliwell siblings and their supporters after they killed Abraxas, and I have failed you."

"Yes, you have," she acknowledged with a scowl.

Technically, he had found them once. But, despite Abraxas managing to strip Wyatt's powers before being vanquished, and thus leaving Elizabeth as the sole member of the trio with active powers, they had escaped.

Apparently Wyatt had obtained a gun at some point, and could use it well enough. They had hollowed out the bullets and filled them with vanquishing potions, so each was almost guaranteed to be lethal. The Empress guessed that Elizabeth, creative and viciously clever as the girl was, had come up with the idea. In addition, Elizabeth was a lethal fighter and excellent strategist in her own right. Combined with the two young women's visions guiding them and the various magical creatures who were willing to risk themselves to aid the Blessed Ones, one of whom was Excalibur's heiress, and the task of finding and capturing the trio was frustratingly difficult. Though a stroke of luck had recently occurred for the Empress and her people.

"Luckily for you, Barbas has a gift for us," the Empress went on. "I'm sure it'll help you greatly with your assignment. Barbas!"

The white-haired demon came in, a smug smirk on his face. Behind him, two Brute Demons stalked in, dragging a limp form between them.

They swiftly tossed the battered young man on the ground, making him groan in pain as his injuries were jarred roughly by the impact.

The Empress stood and made her way around the desk to crouch beside him. She reached out to grab hold of his jaw and forced him to face her.

Nikolas Perry of the Phoenix clan glared bitterly at her through his one unblackened eye. It was obvious that the assassin hadn't gone down lightly. His bottom lip was bloody, his right eye swollen closed and an ugly purple. Blood trickled from a cut at his hairline, and none of that took into account the wounds covering his torso and his badly swollen (and probably broken) ankle.

"So, you're the man Elizabeth has been fucking," the Empress stated, her vulgar language contrasting with her mild tone. "I'd've thought she'd have better taste than a part-demon but I suppose you can hardly expect sense when it comes to a girl's lust."

Niko didn't reply, but she saw his eyes flicker slightly in anger at the crude and derogatory way that she talked about Elizabeth.

The Empress released her grip on his chin and rose to her feet, turning to her ever-loyal Izax. "Izax, why don't you escort our guest to his quarters," she suggested with a smirk. Izax grinned in a bloodthirsty manner at the offer. "I'm sure you have lots to discuss in regards to my niece and nephew. I am ever so eager to see them again, as you well know."

"Of course, Great Lady," Izax bowed to her.

Prudence Halliwell watched the demons drag her niece's lover out of the room, then turned to the painting studying the looks of betrayal and furious grief on her sisters' faces.

"Don't worry so much, Piper," she said coldly to the image of Piper on her back with a smoking hole in the centre of her chest. "You and Leo'll be reunited with your precious babies soon enough."

* * *

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: May 1st, 2001** _

_The front door of the Manor flew open and the three Halliwell sisters rushed inside, Prue pulling the bewildered and alarmed Doctor Griffiths inside to safety._

"_Okay, I think we made it. I'm sure we made it," Piper rambled. "Do you think we made it?"_

"_I don't know," Prue replied, glancing at the door anxiously._

"_I think he would've attacked by now if we hadn't," Phoebe pointed out reasonably. Her sisters acknowledged that statement with nods, but remained jittery. The stress of their miniature war with the Source and all of his servants was wearing on all of them._

"_Who?" their innocent demanded, frustrated to high heavens with the trio of women who had burst into his home and basically kidnapped him while claiming his life was in danger. "Who would've attacked? Why won't you tell me what's going on?"_

"_Because we're busy trying to save your life," Phoebe told him curtly. Her psychic senses were tingling, and she was certain that an attack was on the way._

"_From who?" the doctor pressed._

"_Uh, unfortunately we're not quite sure," Prue admitted sheepishly._

"_That's because Phoebe didn't give us time to figure it out," Piper muttered waspishly under her breath._

"_Well, I didn't have a lot of time," the youngest of the sisters tried to defend herself. "I mean, I can't control how far in the future my premonitions take place. I saw the attack, we kicked butt, what more do you want?"_

"_I __**want **__to know more about who we are up against," Piper replied sharply. Phoebe huffed. Once, Piper had been shy to the point of having trouble talking to family, let alone strangers. Now, however, she was as confident and outgoing as Prue, and even more stubborn._

_Prue cut in to prevent her younger sisters getting into a fight and destroying yet more furniture. "Okay, Phoebe, maybe you should check the Book of Shadows, see if you can find anything else on this demonic hit man, okay?"_

"_Excuse me, demonic?" the doctor repeated incredulously, though the girls simply ignored him._

"_And how to vanquish him," Piper added. "that would be a good thing to know, and do not get side tracked with the Cole potion thingy because the only ones we are concerned about saving right now is ourselves."_

_Phoebe turned and headed up the stairs without another word, slightly stung by Piper's comment._

_Prue turned to Piper, raising an eyebrow. Anything to do with Cole made her suspicious. "Ah, okay, what Cole potion?"_

"_Ah, he told her that he only killed because some demon cast a spell on him. How naive is that?"_

"_I thought she was over him?"_

_Piper shrugged. "Apparently not."_

"_What the hell are you talking about?" Doctor Griffiths burst out, having lost his patience completely by now. "First you tell me my life's in danger, then you abduct me from my work, now you're talking about demons and witches. Who the hell are you people?"_

_Prue sighed. Here came the hard part of saving innocents. Convincing them to believe their lives were a lie. "Look, I know that this all sounds incredible, but it doesn't make it any less true. Alright, you're a healer, you do good, now either you have saved too many lives or you're about to save a life that they don't want you to save."_

"_They?"_

_Prue hid a wince, knowing this wasn't going to go down well. "Yeah, demons. Uh, more specifically, Shax. He was the Source's assassin."_

_The doctor raised his hand. "Hold it, I get it. This is a practical joke, right? Do you have a hidden camera here? My second wife put you up to this? Ah, it's just like her." He laughed a hysterical cackle._

_Prue reached out, trying to calm him down and convince him. "O-o-okay, Dr. Griffiths, listen to me, this is anything but..." She trailed off, frowning and glancing around warily._

"_What?" Piper questioned her, raising her hands and pointedly not aiming them in her sister and Griffith's directions, just in case she lost control of her new exploding power again._

"_I don't know," Prue answered uneasily. "I just felt a chill. Phoebe?"_

_There was no answer, and Prue felt dread pooling in her stomach. "Phoebe!" she called again. "Phoebe, are you there? Phoebe, where are you?"_

_Just then, the door burst open and a tornado zoomed in. Piper and Prue were knocked to the floor, and Shax appeared with a crack of lightning._

"_Oh my god!" Doctor Griffiths cried in fear. _

"_No!" Prue jumped up and pushed the man out of the way. Shax threw an aerokinetic blast at her, but it was deflected somehow, and Prue managed to dodge, giving Piper time to scramble to her feet. Piper blasted the demon, for once in control of her molecular combustion. Prue joined her, hurling various objects at the demon, until it was forced to flee under the sisters' combined onslaught._

"_Where the hell is Phoebe?" Prue exclaimed. _

"_No idea, are you alright?" Piper responded. "That was way too close for my tastes."_

"_I'm fine," Prue sighed tiredly. "Dr. Griffiths, are you okay? Did it hurt you?"_

"_Oh my god, oh my god," the panicked mortal repeated over and over, eyes wide. Prue started trying to calm him, while Piper ran upstairs to look for Phoebe._

_Neither of them spotted the figure hidden in the corner, a dark smile playing at its blood-red lips._


	8. Visions and Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz learns more about her family's lives in the current timeline.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. I hope this enjoyable, and that the revelation about Prue was a good twist.**

**Chapter Eight**

**Visions and Torture**

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: June 13th, 2026** _

In general, the Warren witches were known for having explosive tempers and a habit of nursing grudges for decades. When their emotions ran hot, they reacted foolishly, thinking only of gaining satisfaction for whatever slight they believed had been performed against them. And they always, always left tragedy in their wakes.

Elizabeth had always been different to her family in many ways, and that was one of them. Where her mother and brother had short, volcanically explosive tempers, Liz could tolerate a great deal before she became angry. But once she did get upset, she followed the creed of 'revenge is a dish best served cold'. She acted slowly and analytically, willing to wait for years to avenge herself and those she loved.

In her first life, she had grown up in various underground tunnels, hiding from the Witch Hunters who blamed the magical community for the Titans' rampage that had done such damage in the original timeline. The constant waiting for death and early understanding of the harshness of life had made her grow up quickly as she babysat her cousins and worried over Wyatt's cruel streak and bitter tirades against mortals in general while their mothers led the Magical Resistance. The deaths of Piper and Phoebe seeking revenge for Fay's death, with Wyatt's takeover following on their heels, had crushed any remnants of innocence and recklessness quickly as she struggled to protect herself and Pam after Cole and Prim were killed trying to subdue the Source.

Then she had become Leader of the Resistance, responsible for the lives of over a million starving, desperate and brave people. Every move had to be carefully calculated and the risks weighed to decide what loss was acceptable and what wasn't. A single improperly planned action could kill millions of people who relied on her.

In her second life, she was reminded regularly of her future as Queen of Magic. She had also (as future Matriarch of the Warren Line) become the de facto leader of the Charmed Children. She was often placed in charge of babysitting while the parents were away and given the responsibility of making sure that none of them were irresponsible with their powers. Her cousins, in turn, learned to go to her first to sort out any problems and reveal secrets. When Emily told him about her pregnancy, Wyatt had come to _Liz_ first, and she had organized and insisted on the DNA test, before going with him to choose an engagement ring. Being an authority figure for her family at such a young age had also helped to mature her.

In both lives, only in Niko's arms had she felt able and safe enough to remove her icily calculating, always controlled façade and rage about whatever was weighing on her.

It was years' worth of such things that allowed her to keep a tight reign on her emotions while her brother stormed around the attic, swearing and throwing things. Liz pointedly ignored his childish antics and focused on organizing their supplies into a single rucksack. Emily stayed on the couch, worried and miserable as she petted her swollen stomach in worry.

"What the fuck are we gonna do now?" Wyatt finally spat, twisting to glare at her.

Liz continued to check over the crystal she held in her hands for any damage that might ruin its magic. There was no use setting up a cage if the prisoner could escape because one of the bars didn't appear, after all.

"We find Niko, convince him to help us, then we come back here and use the spell I used to go back in time the first go 'round to get Mom and the aunts. Then we go further back and reset the timeline. It should all go back to normal then."

Liz didn't mention the paradox risk, as that would have to be dealt with later.

"How will we convince him to help us?" Emily asked, chewing on her bottom lip. "He doesn't remember the other timeline, and you gotta admit, it's quite a farfetched story."

Liz sighed and ran a hand through her short hair, grimacing as her fingers caught against dirt-laced knots. "I'll convince him," she assured her sister-in-law. And if she couldn't get him to believe her... Well Liz knew she could take him in a fight, even if she was handy-capped by the fact that he would probably be aiming to kill and she'd be going for capture.

"How?" Wyatt pressed her, and Liz let out an irritated huff as she finished wrapping the crystals securely in some old baby clothes and stuffed them into the sack.

"Just trust me, okay?" she ordered them firmly. "Now, I'm going to go into a trance to try and find him. Wyatt, keep an eye out for anything outside. Emily, for the love of the gods, close your eyes. You look dea-exhausted."

No way was Liz going to jinx anything by saying that Emily looked 'dead on her feet.' She knew better than to tempt the Angels of Destiny.

Both of her companions still looked anxious and stressed, but they gave in, trusting in her judgement, as usual.

Liz and Wyatt dragged a floor-length old mirror in the corner, covered by a dirty sheet with a large crack on the surface, into the light. Then she knelt in front of it, staring at it.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, staring into it and repeating over and over "Show me Nikolas Perry, of the Phoenix clan" as she reached out with her Sensing and searched through the world for that familiar, if altered, presence.

It didn't take long for the visions to begin filling her mind. But they weren't visions of Niko. They were visions of her and Wyatt. A different version of her and Wyatt, that is.

_Beth sat, cross-legged, on the attic floor across from Wyatt. Both of them were colouring silently as their mother, father and aunts had a hushed argument beside the lectern that held the Book of Shadows. They probably thought that the young ones weren't able to hear them, or weren't paying attention nor were they old enough to grasp what the argument was about. _

_Nearly-seven-year-old Beth, however, had recently come into a new power: Enhanced Senses. The bad part of it was severe sleeping problems because she could hear the neighbours across the street and five doors down wrestling and kissing in bed at midnight. The plus side was that she could eavesdrop on her family._

"_We need to do something!" Paige insisted stubbornly. "We can't keep this stalemate forever. Not in the least because innocents are dying, and it's our __**job**__ to __**protect**__ them. Or have you two forgotten that?"_

"_Of course we haven't!" Piper hissed back furiously. "Remember, Paige, that Phoebe and I have been doing this a lot longer than you have! But what are we supposed to do, kill our own __**sister?**__"_

"_Besides," Phoebe added, sounding exhausted. "Even if, if we killed Prue, that only solves part of the problem. Evil will be left leaderless, yes, but magic is still exposed and evil is above ground. Demons won't just go back to the Underworld without a fight. At least Prue keeps them in line."_

"_Leo, what do you think?" Paige turned to the silent Whitelighter, the other Charmed Ones copying her expectantly._

_Leo hesitated, then opened his mouth to reply reluctantly._

The vision changed.

_Beth, now seventeen, kept her head down as she carefully picked through the food on display, searching for the least-gone off choices._

_She could feel the icy stares of the Centurion guards who were pacing the edges of the market, ready to swoop down on anyone who put a toe out of line and haul them in for questioning on their 'suspicious behaviour'._

"_Bethany," Wyatt appeared at her side, calling her alias softly. He held a loaf of bread in one hand and a green-mesh bag of cans in the other. "Ready to pay and go?" _

_Beth picked up the two least-bruised apples, popped them in her bag alongside the oranges, and nodded. "Yeah," she muttered to her brother. "Let's get outta here."_

_They were just paying (they had been forced to pawn the last of their crystals in the black market to get enough money to get by for the month. Beth was at a loss as to how they'd manage next month. She was reluctant to accept money from their supporters, given they were all struggling as much as she and Wyatt were.) when a nearby screen flickered on, revealing their 'Beloved and Benevolent Empress'. Gods, what a joke that was._

"_My dear people," Prudence Halliwell smiled benignly at her audience. "I am here to announce a wonderful triumph for our cause! This evening, the Queen of Elves, along with her remaining supporters, were found and executed for their refusal to bend the knee to the United Earth Empire. I-"_

_Whatever Prue had been saying was cut abruptly by a fireball. Dread pooled in Beth's stomach as she turned to confirm her fears. As she suspected, Wyatt had been the one to destroy the screen. Unlike her, Wyatt had never learned to bite his tongue and get on with things, waiting until the best chance to strike arrive._

"_Witch!" one of the Centurions yelled, pointing at her brother. The civilians screamed and ran, fleeing the coming battle._

"_Sorry," Wyatt mumbled to her._

_Beth simply sighed, ignoring him as she slung the bag of food over her shoulder and fell into a fighting position. "Just fight," she ordered him briskly, deflecting an energy ball aimed at her abdomen._

Liz groaned, clutching her head as the scene shifted yet again.

_Beth glared incredulously at her brother. "Are you fucking kidding me, Wyatt?" she hissed at him. "What were you _ _ **thinking** _ _?"_

"_I was thinking that I couldn't just abandon an innocent girl to die!" he snapped back, hands clenched into fists. "I was thinking that our family didn't raise us to put ourselves above innocents!"_

_Beth scowled and rubbed at her temples irritably, trying to figure out what the heck they were going to do with the injured young woman resting on a blanket with Wyatt's jacket bundled up and shoved under her head as a pillow. _

_Until earlier that day, the Halliwell siblings had been hiding out in a Resistance safehouse, along with a young psychic Wyatt's age named Emily (she had no memory of her last name) and a few others. Somebody had sold them out to the Centurions however. _

_Beth didn't know if their identities had been revealed and someone had seen a chance to escape their fugitive lifestyle by handing them over, or if they had simply revealed the entire 'safe'house. The result was the same anyway. But during the chaotic escape, Wyatt had grabbed Emily's hand and brought her with them._

_He claimed he was only trying to help an innocent woman, but Beth had seen the looks he gave Emily, as well as felt his emotions through their link. He couldn't fool her._

"_We can barely keep __**ourselves**__ alive, Wyatt," Beth pointed out tiredly. "How do you plan on supporting another person too?"_

"_You don't havta," a hoarse voice croaked. Emily sat up, one hand resting on her bandaged middle. "I promise, I'll be gone by sunrise."_

"_No!" Wyatt exclaimed, horrified. He gave Beth a desperate look. _

_The Halliwell girl sighed, shoulders slumping. "No," she repeated her brother's refusal. "We're in this together, now."_

By now, Liz was slumped on the floor, and Wyatt and Emily were both at her side, arguing over what to do.

"We need to snap her out of it!" Wyatt insisted frantically, as Liz moaned and writhed on the floor.

"We can't break the connection, Wyatt!" Emily snapped back. "Forcing a psychic out of a vision prematurely can shatter their minds, or lock them into it forever!"

"So what do we do, then?"

She gave him a pained look. "There's nothing else for us_ to_ do but wait," she answered sorrowfully.

Wyatt closed his eyes in despair and pulled his twisting baby sister into his arms, loathing that he couldn't even give her the comfort through their bond.

* * *

_ **The Source's Prison, Loire, France: June 15th, 2026** _

Niko's joints ached worse than an eighty-year-old's. They had done all of the standard things, tying his wrists to the ceiling and chaining his ankles to the ground to force his body to stretch painfully. Then they'd gone after him with knives, hot irons and other implements of torture.

But he hadn't broken.

Even when they switched from physical to mental torture, tormenting him with images conjured by Barbas and the scent of freshly baked bread (he hadn't had anything to drink in days, nothing to eat since a week before he was captured.), he had still kept his mouth shut.

Then the Empress got involved. She sashayed into his cell, a sinister smile on her face, and Niko didn't have the strength to suppress his shudder.

He loathed the woman so much, and it disturbed him how similar she looked to his lover.

Getting involved with Elizabeth Halliwell had been a bad idea, he'd known that from the moment his grandfather had assigned him her bounty. But he'd accepted against his better judgment, fully expecting to join the ranks of the many fools who'd tried to kill the young witch. That is, whatever was left of them, which wasn't a lot, most of the time.

Tracking her down hadn't been the problem. Before Wyatt lost his powers, he had left a trail of readily-tracked destruction behind the siblings. Beth had intrigued him, with her mocking smile and stunning green eyes that revealed all the pain she bore, hidden beneath her icy demeanour.

He had never meant to fall for her, but he hadn't been able to resist. She was a drug, and he had fallen headfirst into the sinful bliss of her arms and kisses and whispered dreams of a free life together, unendangered by the shadow of the Empire.

"So, Little Bird," the Empress swept over to him, hips swaying from side-to-side.

Her eyes were black, but Niko knew from old photographs that once she had shared the same green eyes as Beth, inherited from the deceased Patricia Halliwell. Combined with their dark hair and similar features, as well as several matching personality traits, it made Prue into a mirror version of her niece. Niko shuddered again as she cupped his face the same way that Beth did when they were having quiet conversations together after being intimate.

"I hear that you're not being very cooperative," she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Now, what am I going to do about that?"

Niko didn't dare to answer. Instead he focused on his training. No doubt she would try and rip apart his mind in search of what he knew. He wasn't arrogant enough to think that he could hold out against a Warren witch, let alone a former Charmed One-turned-Source of All Evil. But, if just focused on one thing throughout the entire thing, maybe he could shield it from her.

He just had to keep from thinking about Beth.

"I know," Prue's lips curled into a dark smirk, bloodlust glinting in her eyes. "This."

A second later, Niko screamed in agony as he felt his mind being invaded and ripped apart by the evil woman.

Throughout it all, he clung to one thought. 'Don't think of Beth. Don't think of Beth.'


	9. Old-But-New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group goes to some old friends for help

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Glad people are enjoying this, keep reviewing please! Joss is an OC and a cryokinetic witch.**

**Chapter Nine**

**Old-But-New Friends**

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: June 13th, 2026** _

It took four hours for Liz's visions to end. One moment, Wyatt was pacing the attic, glancing towards her every few seconds and seeing no change as she stared blankly into the dusty old mirror, the next she let out a gasp and toppled forward, flinging out her hands to keep herself from banging her head as she gasped for breath.

"Liz!" Wyatt and Emily cried. Wyatt ran over to crouch beside his panting sister, while Emily struggled to rise.

"Don', Em'ly," Liz croaked out, voice hoarse like she'd been screaming for hours. She swallowed, biting her tongue to conjure up blood and wet her mouth. "Don't get up. You need rest. How long was I out?"

"Four hours," Wyatt replied, ashen-faced. "I thought you would be stuck like that forever! Why did-?"

"I saw our lives in this world," Liz explained tiredly, clambering to her feet. It was a mark of how worn out she was that she allowed Wyatt to support her and help her over to Aunt Pearl's couch to sit beside Emily. "It, wasn't pleasant."

She was thankful that she had been the one to see it, though, instead of Wyatt or Emily. Their lives in this world had been awful beyond words, there was no doubt about that. But her original life, where she had personally witnessed the deaths of each of her family (mostly at the hands of her brother) and been left with no one except for Niko when he could escape for their secret trysts, had been so much worse. Therefore, she was confident that she could handle the visions.

Wyatt and Emily, however, couldn't. Not without being severely traumatized at least. Liz was already a mess of self-hatred and PTSD, so she figured that she'd manage with a bit more depression. No way was she going to let her mother convince her to take any more of those godsdamned anti-depression meds, though. Never again.

"What do you mean, wasn't pleasant?" Wyatt asked nervously. "I mean, it's obvious that we're in some kind of post-apocalypse world and all, but what happened in your visions?"

Liz sighed and looked away. She automatically reached up to try and play with her rings, slung on a necklace that she wore constantly. Then she remembered that she didn't have those rings any longer, and clasped her hands together in her lap, refusing to grieve the loss. When she had become so shallow, caring about _things_ when she had _people_ to worry about?

"Aunt Prue is the Source here," she announced bluntly. Liz wasn't particularly good about sharing information, but knowledge was power. She had to warn them about the dangers, so they knew not to trust Prue if they met her and she tried to trick them.

Emily gasped in shock, and Wyatt's eyes widened. He shook his head in denial.

"No way, not possible!" he protested. "Aunt Prue was a Charmed One! Mom and Aunt Phoebe always said-"

"It was probably a spell of some sort," Liz interrupted. "I dunno the specifics, my vision didn't show how she ended up turning evil. By the time I was born, she was the Source and Aunt Paige had replaced her in the Power of Three. That's all I saw." She hesitated before adding in a soft tone. "Mom, Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige went to confront her when you were about twelve and I was ten. They never came back."

Wyatt's eyes glistened. He had never been able to hide his feelings, positive or negative. He was a very emotional person, in contrast to Liz, who sometimes felt that her emotions were separate to the rest of her. A symptom of her depression, according to Phoebe.

"But once we've reversed this, none of it will matter," Liz declared stubbornly. "So now we need to break Niko out of the Source's castle and jump back in time to 2010. I-"

"Wait, what?" Wyatt choked out. "What do you mean, break Niko out?"

"Oh," Liz blinked, realizing that she had been too busy trying to plan (and, she could privately admit, distract herself from the newest horrors that were haunting her) to have explained that. "Niko is my lover in this world. Has been for about two years now, I guess, from the visions. Somehow, he was found out. The Source's people have him at the moment."

Her voice was strained when she explained where her husband was. She knew from personal experience what happened to prisoners of Sources. Niko was strong, yes, but she couldn't help but fear for him.

"Your lover?" Wyatt echoed with a grimace. "Seriously, what the heck Liz? This is, like, your third lifetime together. Why-"

"He's my soulmate, Wyatt," Liz bit out, expression coldly furious. "As in, our spirits search each other out in each lifetime. He was at my side as my most loyal knight when I was King Arthur, just like you were, _Merlin._ Now, in _this_ life, he is my lover. It's how it works! If you keep acting like he's less than the rest of us because he has demonic heritage a dozen generations back, so help me I will-"

"Where is the castle?" Emily interrupted before her husband could speak up and say anything else to infuriate his sister.

Liz grimaced and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I didn't recognize the place. But I can sense for him. Just give me-"

"Liz, no!" Wyatt protested. "You were in a trance for hours! Your powers are completely haywire! You need to rest."

Liz glared at him. "Look, Wy," she said through gritted teeth. "I appreciate the concern. But I know my limits, and I haven't hit them yet. Not by a long shot. However, at this very moment, the man I love is being tortured for information on us, by our aunt of all people! Don't test my patience right now, Wyatt. I_ will _knock you out!"

By now the Halliwells were both on their feet. They stood opposite each other in matching stances with their feet spread apart and hands clenched into fists and their sides as they glowered at each other, neither willing to be the one to back down.

Emily suddenly cried out, doubling over and clutching at her stomach as she groaned in pain. The two siblings spun towards her, looking frantic.

"Em?" Wyatt called, brows furrowing worriedly. "Em, are you alright Babe?"

"Emily, what's wrong?" Liz asked insistently.

Emily groaned again, still curled in on herself. "The, the baby," she stammered. "Oh, sweet gods, is she alright? Liz, Wyatt, do something! I think that I'm having contractions!"

Liz reached out, putting a hand on Emily's distended stomach and snapping her eyes closed. "Not in labour," she stated after a moment, opening her eyes and wearing a pinched expression. "The baby's not ready yet. I think you're having Braxton Hicks contractions."

"False labour pains," Emily muttered. "Oh, gods. If this is what the preparatory pains are like, I don't want to imagine not having an epidural!"

"Are you sure, Liz?" Wyatt pressed worriedly, sitting beside his wife and pulling her close to him protectively.

"Yes," Liz nodded firmly. She paused then added, "In my first life, everyone in the Resistance spent time in the med wards. I have experience with delivering kids, remember I told you that? I learned how to sense the kid in the womb. They're not in the right position to be born yet. I promise."

"Is she alright, though?" Emily asked weakly. Liz was concerned by the pallor of her cheeks. Emily was worryingly pale in this life, but she seemed nearly translucent now.

"They're fine," Liz replied. It wasn't quite true. The baby was weak. But there was life there still. And where there was life, there was hope.

But there was no way that Emily could come on a rescue mission in her condition, nor could Wyatt be anything other than a hindrance without his powers and fighting off an infection. Meaning that she needed a safe place for them to stay while she broke Niko out. And, unfortunately, the 'Resistance' of this world didn't seem to be as efficient as the one set up by Cole and the other Founders in her first life.

"What do we do now?" Wyatt wondered, voicing his sister's thoughts. "Em isn't up to walking, let alone breaking into the lair of the Source."

Liz bit her lip and shuffled through her visions, trying to come up with an idea. "I have an idea," she finally said, with great reluctance, after several minutes of internal debate. "Emily, can you walk? We need to get outside the wards before I can orb us away."

* * *

_ **31 Westbury Living Block: June 14th, 2026** _

Darryl Morris Junior sighed tiredly as he trudged into his flat. It wasn't like an apartment from the days of his childhood, in fact it wasn't even half the size of the top floor of the house he had lived in until his eleventh birthday, when they had gone on the run. But it was safe, and he was fully aware that, unlike the Halliwells who looked more and more rung out each time he saw them, he had least had a roof over his head every night. Darryl wasn't about to complain.

A noise coming from the bedroom made him freeze, and he darted a glance at Joss. She was pale and worried-looking, confirming that he hadn't been imagining the sound. They exchanged hand signals, then advanced quietly towards the room, Darryl holding up his shotgun and Joss with a ball of ice in her hands.

They paused outside the door, Darryl counting down on his fingers, then he kicked open the door and stormed inside, preparing to fire.

"Wait! It's us!" He recognized Beth's voice just before he pressed too far on the trigger, and hastily released it.

"Prove it," Joss demanded.

"La liberté est trouve dans la mort_ (Freedom is found in death),_" Beth replied, making Wyatt grimace.

"That's so depressing," he mumbled. Darryl wrinkled his eyebrow in bemusement at that, considering it had been Wyatt who came up with the idea, then shrugged and put down his gun.

"You came up with it," he reminded his childhood friend. "Remember that?"

Wyatt blinked. "I did?"

"You did," Beth answered tightly. "Now shut up before you say something that makes them decide to shoot us as imposters."

"If you're imposters, your disguises are fantastic, but Wyatt's impersonation is crap," Darryl informed them. "Beth's got it down to a T, though."

Beth flashed a grim smile, while Wyatt grimaced again and glanced at his young sister. "Beth?" he said, making it sound like a question.

"Who's the pregnant one?" Joss asked, eyeing the weak woman reclining on their bed. The pregnant blonde smiled weakly and gave a half a wave before dropping her skeletal hand onto her swollen abdomen and rubbing it gently.

Beth let out a tired huff at the question and raked a hand through her knotted tangle of dark hair. Darryl felt a stab of guilt at the sight of how worn out she was.

The Halliwells spent their time darting from supporter to abandoned building to Resistance safehouse, running the Resistance and the Underground on the go. Or rather, Beth ran the Resistance and Wyatt stayed at her side as the rightful Queen's most loyal supporter.

But there was no question on how hard everything was on both of the pair. It had been almost two full years since the last time that Darryl had met up with the two siblings, and he worried about whatever happened that was so serious they had risked coming to him and Joss for help and shelter.

"The baby is Wyatt's," Beth explained. Darryl's eyebrows shot up in shock at that news. "And that's Emily."

"What the fuck!?" he exclaimed.

"The hell were you thinking, Wyatt?" Joss added, stunned. He glared, flushing, but didn't reply.

"Does it matter what we were thinking?" 'Emily' asked in a strained voice. "It's too late to do anything now."

"When are you due?" Joss asked, her medical training taking over as she went over and started feeling Emily's forehead. "Don't worry," she added. "I'm a doctor."

"She's due in two weeks, but I doubt the kid'll wait that long," Beth stated. "Anyway, we have a problem, and we need your help."

"A problem other than the general one of the world being in ruins, and Wyatt screwing up, literally, and getting a woman pregnant?" Darryl checked. "Well, isn't that just fantastic! Come on, tell us. Can't be worse than anything else I've heard."

Beth sighed, brushing down her dirty jeans fruitlessly. "Just swear that you'll wait until I've finished explaining before losing your heads."

"That doesn't sound good," Joss noted warily.

"We'll hear you out," Darryl promised.

Beth exhaled heavily, exchanged a quick glance with her brother, then began to explain. Unfortunately, Darryl wasn't able to keep his promise not to flip out before she finished. The whole thing was just too insane.


	10. Rescue and Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz leads a rescue mission.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Here's the next chapter, read, enjoy, and review!**

**Chapter Ten**

**Rescue and Flight**

_ **31 Westbury Living Block: June 19th, 2026** _

Desperate times called for desperate measures had been the maxim that Liz had lived her first life by. The trip back to 2003 had not been the first reckless, suicidal plan she had come up with to try and subvert Lord Wyatt's power. The good thing about living in a dystopian world was that the people had nothing to lose, and so were willing to believe the craziest of stories and go through with the flimsiest of plans. Just as long as it gave them a shot at taking down their enemies. And if it restored the beautiful world that Liz had spent her second life in, then that was even better.

But the possibility of destroying Prue Halliwell and her dictatorial regime was the real reason that Darryl and Joss had agreed to help Liz break into the Charmed Castle. And didn't that sting like a slap across the face, that the Source of All Evil was using the sacred title belonging to Liz's mother and her younger sisters for the name of her fortress?

"I don't like this plan," Wyatt stated. He was frowning deeply, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. Liz hated it when Wyatt stood like that with an unhappy expression. It brought back bad memories of Lord Wyatt leaning against the door to her cell while Barbas and Izax tortured her for information.

Liz's own frown deepened when she thought of the two demons. It was bitterly ironic that, in two Source-ruled worlds, the Demon of Fear and the Power-Stealer had managed to claw their way to the top and be given pride of place in the ranks of the evil Halliwells' courts. It made her uneasy. Fate. No. This could not be the fate of this world. This was the _Good _world. Evil dominated the _Evil_ world, but Good always triumphed eventually in this one. The Great Balance demanded it. They would win. They _would_.

"So you've said," she replied to her brother with a shrug, not looking away from the mirror that was currently showing her a real-time image of the Charmed Castle in Loire. More importantly, it was showing the wards. She had already located and studied the point she would enter through, but it was always a good idea to double-check.

"I don't particularly like the idea of breaking into the headquarters of the Source of All Evil with my powers out of wack, and only a mortal and a cryokinetic as back-up. But I like the idea of leaving Niko there and my future niece or nephew being born in this hell-hole of a world, even less."

"I should be coming with you," he grumbled, making her roll her eyes.

"We've discussed this already," she reminded him crisply. "Multiple times, in fact. That is a terrible idea. You have no powers right now, and you have little to no skills in hand-to-hand combat, nor do you know more than the basics of firing a gun, and that you only learned since we arrived here. You'd be a liability, not a help. Besides, we can't leave Emily alone this close to the birth. It's safer if you stay here with her."

He didn't reply, but she could read his worry and frustration and stress in his blue eyes. She sighed and turned away from the mirror to focus on her brother instead.

"Wyatt," she murmured, reaching out to clasp his hand gently. "Trust me, please. I've done this sort of thing before, in worse circumstances, and come out of it fine."

Maybe she should have said something more comforting, like "everything will be okay" or something. But Liz had never been one to make promises that she couldn't guarantee her ability to keep, so she didn't. There was no guarantee that she, Darryl and Joss would survive, after all. Of that they'd successfully manage to save Niko.

Wyatt's shoulders slumped. "How are you doing?" he asked her with his concern obvious. Wyatt had never been good at hiding his emotions, in any world. "I mean, is this reminding you of-?"

"I'm fine," Liz cut him off sharply, releasing his hand and going over to the pile of weapons left on top of the set of drawers. Her jaw was tight and her teeth were grinding.

"Denial's not just a river in Egypt," Wyatt mumbled as he came over to her. "So you're fine, huh? Freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional, right?"

"Leave it be, Wyatt," Liz ordered him stonily. "I'm fine, and we have more important stuff to worry about. Don't fuckin' test me right now."

"I'm worried about you," he replied stubbornly. "Have you even slept since we woke up in this hellhole of a world? How're you gonna rescue Niko if you faint from exhaustion half-through breaking into the place?"

"I guess we'll find out," she snapped back. "Seeing as it's time for Darryl, Joss and I to leave now."

She shoved past him, stalking out the door as she slung a gun loaded with hollowed-out bullets in it that were filled with generic, but strong, vanquishing potions. An ingenious idea. They'd used it in the first timeline as well. In that one, a former Marine by the name of Evan Jackson had come up with it. She wasn't sure who had invented it here. The bullets worked well on a lot of different demons, if not the upper-level ones, and they also worked on any witches or mortals who were on the other side.

Not that Liz had ever mentioned to her family in the second timeline that she had killed humans and magical creatures as well as demons. They didn't, couldn't, understand the desperation that came from living a life like this, with the fate of billions weighing on her malnourished shoulders.

She entered the kitchenette that doubled as the sitting room, where the others waited. Emily was on the couch, still pale and sick-looking. Her expression was tense with worry and she cradled her stomach protectively.

Joss was pumping a shotgun, dressed in combat fatigues and boots with a small medical kit attached to her belt beside several grenades. Darryl was much the same, but he had a pair of automatics slung over his shoulders and a bandolier of bullets slung across his chest.

Liz herself had an AK-47, a belt with two grenades and a bandolier of potion vials. They all had knives tucked into their boots, too. She met their eyes. "Ready?"

"Born ready," Joss smirked back grimly. Darryl nodded, expression stoney and determined.

"Let's do this, then."

* * *

_ **Charmed Castle, Loire: June 19th, 2026** _

It was disturbingly easy to enter the Castle grounds. So easy that they all knew that it had to be a trap. That being said, they needed to get in, so they pressed forward anyway. The halls were mostly bare, and Darryl took down most of the guards using his silencer, while Joss and Liz dealt with the rest using their powers and the knives in their boots.

Guided by Liz's visions, they carefully made their way down to the dungeons. There, in front of the cell where she knew Niko was, was Izax. He grinned at the sight of the trio.

"So predictable, Halliwell," he laughed. "We knew that you would come for your lover."

Liz shrugged. "And I knew this was a trap," she said indifferently. "But needs must, don't you agree? Now, seeing as I could have killed you at seven with barely a wave of my hand, why don't you get the fuck out of my way and I won't waste my energy on you?"

Of course, they both knew that was a lie, and he that he wouldn't dare. The demons feared their Evil Mistress far more than did her skinny Good niece.

"I'm afraid not," Izax grinned. An energy ball sparked to life in his hands, but the humans were quicker and acted first.

Liz flung a ball of electricity at him, which he deflected at the cost of being hit by a bullet sent by Darryl in his upper chest. Joss took advantage of him staggering from the impact to fling a stream of ice at his other side, freezing his arm. Liz shattered the ice-covered arm with a wave of telekinesis, and she finished him off with a knife to the gut.

"That was way too easy," Joss commented grimly as Liz plucked the keys up from where they had fallen onto the ground.

"I know," Liz agreed. "We need to hurry."

She unlocked the door, disturbed by the lack of any other defences, and hurried inside.

She froze inside, staring in dismay at her black-eyed aunt, smirking at her and holding a knife to an unconscious Niko's throat. Behind her, Joss and Darryl sucked in sharp breaths of instinctive fear.

"Hello, Niece," Prue greeted them. Her voice was cheerful, and if Liz didn't know any better, she might have thought she was a regular aunt greeting a beloved niece. As it was, the tone reminded her of Lord Wyatt coming to visit her during the start of her various captivities. Cruel and sinister.

"Hello, Aunt," Liz replied icily. She couldn't keep her eyes from darting to Niko. To her relief, his chest was still moving weakly.

"I knew that you would come for your lover," Prue announced. "You have Piper's heart. It's the reason she died. Couldn't bring herself not to hesitate when she had the chance to kill me. She had to try and turn me back to Good. As if I ever would choose family over power, now that I truly understand it."

"My mother was a better woman than you could ever be, Prue," Liz replied coldly. She went on before her aunt could respond. "Listen, we all know that you don't care about Niko, or my companions here. Just me. Fight me and let them take him."

"Beth, no!" Darryl and Joss snapped, eyes flashing with fake alarm. Or maybe it was genuine, even though this was part of the plan for if they met the Empress.

Prue smirked again. "Why not?" she said genially. She waved her hand, sending Niko's limp body flying straight into Darryl, who hastily grabbed him. A groan escaped Niko's lips, but otherwise he didn't stir.

Liz was already deflecting an energy ball. "What're you waitin' for?" she snapped at her friends. "Go! I'll deal with her!"

"Overconfidence will be your downfall, Niece," Prue warned her, as Darryl tossed Niko over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and ran out the door, Joss at his heels. "As it was Paige's. She thought she was strong enough to 'deal with' me, too. Then it killed her."

"And it'll be yours too!" Liz retorted. She ignored the pain in her shoulder as she was seconds to slow to completely avoid another energy ball as she combined her electrokinesis and pyrokinesis into a single ball, flinging it at her aunt. Prue waved it out of the way, a faint look of surprise briefly flashing across her expression, but she wasn't in time to keep from being hit in the stomach by a jet of raw ice reinforced by a wave of telekinesis.

Prue cried out as she slammed back into the wall. Liz spun on her heel and raced back out the door. She slammed the bolt shut with a loud clang and quickly tossed up several wards. It wouldn't hold Prue for long, but Liz just needed a little more time.

Liz raced away, heading for the sounds of energy balls, shouting and gun blasts. The stains now littering the walls and floors proved that Joss and Darryl had been fighting for their lives since they left with Niko in tow.

She reached them quickly, adrenaline surging through their veins, and took in the scene as she dashed around the corner. Joss and Darryl were pinned against the wall, both injured. Joss was sending blasts of ice at the enemies encircling them while Darryl hurriedly refilled his bullet chambers. Both of them were bleeding.

The demons were taken by surprise when Liz arrived, and she took down three of the ten before they could react. It gave her friends enough time to race to her side, and Liz guided them to a nearby window, shattering it with her telekinesis. Darryl, still holding Niko, jumped out first, followed by Joss and finally Liz. Thank the gods that they were on the first floor.

They found quickly themselves surrounded again. The demons of this world, unlike the ones of Liz's second life, did not waste time with longwinded monologues that gave the witch facing them time to take them down. They simply attacked with silent deadliness.

The trio fought on as best they could, but for every one that fell, three more seemed to take their place. Worse, they could see Prue flying towards them. At some point, she had evidently gained (a.k.a stolen) the ability to fly.

That was when Darryl shoved Niko into Liz's arms and told her to go.

She knew that arguing was only a waste of time, but tears still spilled from her cheeks and she apologized brokenly before turning to flee. She raced away as fast as she could, listening to the sounds of her friends' final stand. As soon as she broke through the wards' boundary line, she orbed back to the flat.

Wyatt jumped to his feet. "Liz!" he exclaimed. "Where's-"

"No time!" she snapped back. "C'mon, both of you, now! We need to go!"

Looking stricken, Wyatt helped his wife to her feet, and they grabbed hold of Liz's arm. She orbed them to straight the attic, thankful that she didn't have to take down her mother and aunts' wards a second time. She shoved Niko, still unconscious, and it was starting to frighten her, into Wyatt's arms and snatched up some chalk to draw a triquetra on the wall. Thankfully, none of them interrupted her.

"Hear my words, hear my cry, heed the hope within my mind," she chanted quickly. She could sense a large force of demons, with Prue herself leading them, heading in their direction. "Send me back to where I'll find, what I wish in place and time."

The portal sprang to life, the same white and blue she remembered, and she turned to the others. "Go!" she ordered. "It'll close after me, go!"

They went, and Liz paused to look around the attic before she followed after them. Spying the Book still on the lectern, she snatched it up and held it to her chest as she darted through.

Prue and her demons appeared a second later, the wards having collapsed like dominos under the Source's strong assault. She let out a cry of rage when she realized that, yet again, her prey had escaped her.


	11. The Charmed Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Charmed Ones and Blessed Ones come face-to-face

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. AN: Liz: Elizabeth from the first/second timelines. Beth: adult Elizabeth from the third timeline. Lizzie/Lizziebet: Child Elizabeth. Wy: Child Wyatt. And now, as always read, enjoy and review! **

**Chapter Eleven**

**The Charmed Ones**

_ **San Francisco, Halliwell Manor: November 2** _ _ **nd** _ _ **, 2010 ** _

Bills, bills and more bills. Piper raked a hand through her hair, staring at the what seemed to her to be a mountain of pages demanding money they didn't have. Leo had just finished adding everything up on the calculator, and the news wasn't good for their family.

"How can it be so high?" Phoebe muttered in frustration, her brow wrinkled in worry. "We've cut the television, we use candles more than the lights. How can it possibly be so _much_?"

"It's the club," Paige stated glumly. "That, and the constant repairs from demon attacks. Leo fixes anything broken himself, but we still have to buy the supplies for the repairs. And the club is our sole source of income now that I've been laid off, so we need to keep updating it to attract customers, but that costs money too."

"Plus school costs and everything else needed to raise a pair of rambunctious young children," Leo added, wrapping an arm around Piper's shoulders to tug her close to his side. She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling as if she were Atlas the Titan, carrying the world on her shoulders.

"I'm still looking for a new job, but at this rate the best thing I'll get is minimum wage, and that won't offset expenses very much," Phoebe rubbed her temples.

"Damn it all to hell and back," Paige grumbled. She chewed on her lip for a moment before going on. "We could sell some of my mom's jewellery for this month," she suggested. "Not _our_mother, but my adoptive one I mean. She gave me a necklace with real diamonds, an antique. We could pawn it for quite a bit I bet. Maybe-"

"No, Paige!" her sisters exclaimed, cutting her off.

"That's your inheritance from your mom," Phoebe insisted. "It's not right for you to have to give it up for us. You'll want it for whenever you get married and have a daughter to pass it on to."

"_If _I ever get married and have a daughter," Paige replied ruefully. There was a hint of an old pain in her eyes, and it made Piper flinch mentally away from the memory of Kyle Brody. He'd been a good man. He hadn't deserved to die the way he did. But the selfish part of her was still grateful that he'd been the one to die, not her baby sister.

"You will," Piper assured her. "And you'll be the best mother in history."

Phoebe fixed her eyes on the electricity bill, chewing her lip. If Piper didn't know any better, she might've thought that her middle sister was simply trying to come up with a way to pay all of their bills for the month. As it was, the slight trembling in Phoebe's hands warned her that it was something else. Cole and her lost child, no doubt.

The memory still made Piper's own heart ache, never mind Phoebe. No, she wasn't going to think about it. Bills, that was what she needed to focus on. Bills.

"Maybe if we," she started to say. Then suddenly they all felt a surge of magic and there was some clattering in the attic.

They were on their feet immediately, Phoebe yanking out the knife she kept against her ankle, while Piper and Paige raised their hands. Lizzie and Wyatt came dashing in from where they'd been playing in the conservatory, eyes wide.

"Mommy, we-," Lizzie started, but Piper didn't let her finish.

"I know, sweetie. We felt it too. Stay here with Daddy while we check it out. Do_ not _come up to the attic until one of us says it's safe, understood?"

"Yes, Mommy," they chorused quietly, as Leo crouched to wrap them in his arms. They didn't look frightened, merely concerned. This wasn't the first time their family had been in danger, not even close. Lizzie and Wy were tough kids, though Piper wished they didn't have to be. A seven and newly-turned six-year-old shouldn't be so calm when their lives were threatened. They definitely shouldn't be so comprehending of death. Not for the first time, Piper knew that she had failed in her duty to her children to shield them from the world's dangers. At least she could shield their bodies, if not their minds.

While Piper had been brooding, Paige had grabbed her sisters' wrists and orbed them up to the attic, all of them ready for a fight. But there were no demons ransacking the attic when they arrived. The scene was far more horrifying.

Piper gasped in surprised dismay at the sight in front of her. There was a heavily pregnant young woman, clearly sick, bent over and gasping as she gripped the arm of a gaunt man, as well as a young, dark-haired woman bent over an unconscious man, trying to stop his severe bleeding by pressing down hard on his worst wound with one hand while the other wrapped a belt around his thigh to create a makeshift tourniquet. Piper felt bile rise in her throat when she noticed the bit of bone that was peeking out of the injury on the man's leg.

"Emily, are you okay?" the man was demanding frantically. "Is it the baby? Is he coming? Liz, do something!"

Piper's heart stopped at the name 'Liz'. Could it be?

"Calm down Wyatt, she's the one in labour, not you," Liz snapped back, confirming Piper's suspicions in the process. "Gimme a mo', I need to stop Niko's bleeding."

"Are you my kids?" Piper asked in a shaky voice. It was the most logical conclusion to come to, but if they were, then she dreaded finding out what had happened to reduce them to such pitiful states. Wyatt's neck snapped over to take them in, evidently having been oblivious to their presence before that, but Liz didn't even twitch, still focused on helping Niko.

"Mom!" Wyatt exclaimed, relieved by the sight of her. "Thank the gods! Em's in labour, what do I do?"

Piper was frozen in shock, but thankfully her sisters weren't.

"LEO!" they both bellowed in unison.

He appeared in a shower of orbs moments later, the kids thankfully left behind. He scanned the scene, looking shocked and confused. Liz finally looked away from Niko.

"Good, Dad, you're still a Whitelighter. Right, heal Niko first," Liz ordered him briskly. "Then Emily. I've experience in childbirth, if helping with one delivery and watching another can be considered experience, but I'm no midwife. I don't suppose any of you have a clue?"

"Of course we do, we delivered your brother, didn't we?" Paige scoffed, going to Emily along with Phoebe and wrapping an arm around the groaning girl to orb her downstairs to one of the bedrooms followed by Phoebe and Wyatt while Leo bent over Niko. Piper looked at her grown up daughter, awed and afraid.

She was awed because this was her daughter, grown up and clearly skilled and intelligent. She was afraid because they all, Liz, Wyatt and Emily all looked like war refugees, not to mention Niko's state. And she knew her children. She had raised them properly and emphasizing the rules of magic carefully. She knew that they would only have come back in time for something incredibly serious. And Liz had obviously been injured as well. She was covered in scratches and bruises, with a cauterized wound from an energy ball on her left shoulder.

Leo healed Niko first, and the man opened his eyes with a groan, then snapped them shut and turned away, curling in on himself.

"Won't tell anythin'," he slurred. "Ne'er. Fuck ya." Piper shuddered internally at the thought of what had happened to him to put him such a mindset while being hurt. The conclusion her mind came to was a disturbing one.

"Firebird, it's me," Liz told him gently, reaching out to stroke his hair. "You're safe now, okay? Just rest. I gotta help deliver a kid."

"Beth?" he stared at her in confusion.

"What the hell is going on?" Piper finally asked.

Her daughter, grown, dirty and hardened, gave a grim smile as she ran a hand through Niko's hair with a tenderness that practically screamed that she was in love with him.

"Right now? You're becoming a grandmother."

* * *

It took eight hours of hard labour for Matthew Philip Halliwell to come into the world, loudly screaming his displeasure at leaving the warmth and safety of his mother's womb.

Despite Liz's earlier fears, both her nephew and her sister-in-law survived the birth. But Liz had no doubt that it was down to Leo, who had healed her when she started to haemorrhage.

If they had still been in that future when it happened, there would've been nothing for them to do but watch her slip away. Instead, Emily was left completely spent by the ordeal afterwards, but she was hale and strong. She gazed with open adoration and relief at her baby, the both of them wrapped in Wyatt's arms.

The rest of the family left the new parents alone while they headed up to the attic where Niko paced, expression tight and suspicious. Paige had orbed the two child versions of Liz and her brother to Magic School early on, so they were safe and out of the way.

Niko met Liz's eyes the moment she entered, and she couldn't have held herself back if she tried. She half flew into his arms, tugging his head down and leaning her head back so their lips met in a desperate, passionate kiss.

She forgot everyone else in the room, and only came back to herself when Niko started fumbling with her shirt and her father let out a strangled, "Elizabeth Halliwell!"

They jumped apart, and Liz felt like a guilty teenager at the traumatized look Leo wore. Her aunts looked a mixture of amused and horrified, while Piper just seemed worried. They looked similar to how they had appeared in her first and second lives at this point, but they had aged prematurely and an aura of grief and worry hovered over all of them. They reminded her more of the first timeline's versions of themselves than the second. Made sense from what she knew.

"Sorry, Dad," she muttered, cheeks hot. "But, uh, you saw how injured he was. I was worried for him."

"Yeah, what the heck happened, Lizziebet?" Aunt Paige agreed, calling Liz by her childhood nickname. Wyatt had been unable to pronounce 'Elizabeth' at age one, and he had instead called her by 'Lizziebet'. The name had stuck as a pet name for the rest of Liz's life (each of them), but after she left toddlerhood it had only been used sparingly.

She grimaced, running a hand through her hair and catching on tangles. Niko stood silently behind her, his hands resting on her waist supportively.

"A lot happened Aunt Paige," Liz sighed after a minute. "Most of it really fucking shit."

"Elizabeth Patricia Halliwell, watch your language young lady," Piper scolded her automatically.

Liz inhaled sharply, fighting back the anguish at being chided by her mother. She hadn't witnessed Piper's death in the third timeline, but she had in the first. She'd been focused on doing what had to be done the whole time they were in the alternate 2026, but in the back of her mind, she'd been wishing desperately for Piper's comforting, strong and reassuring presence. She'd felt the same grief of losing her mother she had the first go around, but she tried not to show it for Wyatt and Emily's sake. At that moment, all that Liz wanted was to fling herself into Piper's embrace and cry for her to fix everything like a three-year-old who'd cut their knee.

But she wasn't Lizziebet, Piper's baby girl anymore. She was Elizabeth Halliwell, who had the memories of three different lives in her head, two of them from dystopian worlds at war. She had led two different rebellions, and while she hadn't managed to_ win _against either Lord Wyatt or Empress Prue, she had kept thousands of people alive and as safe as could be in those circumstances, when she was nothing more than a teenager.

She straightened her shoulders and settled into a ready stance, meeting her mother's worried brown eyes and steeling herself the way she had when she was in 2004 and Piper was trying to reach out to the daughter she was pregnant with. Fond, but focused on the mission, not family.

"So, if I got the spell right, it's November 2nd, 2010, right?" Liz asked. "I aimed for a day early."

Niko tapped at her side in an encrypted version of Morse code they'd come up with in both the first and third timelines. They used it in the second as well, so interpretating his words was as easy as breathing for her. _'What's going on?'_ he asked her.

She reached to clasp his hand, tapping her own finger against his knuckles to reply. _'Trust me. Quiet.'_

"That's right," Leo confirmed, nodding. He too was clearly worried, his brow wrinkled tightly.

"Okay," Liz inhaled and exhaled deeply before continuing. "This is what happened." The more she talked, the more stricken everyone went. Niko went stiff at her revelation of being from the second timeline, but didn't step away.

As long as he stayed at her side, Liz could manage. Niko was her anchor, in three different worlds. Without his help and support, she'd collapse from the weight of everything she carried on her shoulders. She needed him like she needed air. Sometimes she thought she needed him more.

* * *

_ **Charmed Castle, Loire: June 19th, 2026** _

Izax paced around his luxurious quarters furiously, cursing the day Elizabeth Halliwell had first drawn breath, as well as the fact that the Charmed Ones had guarded their children too carefully for him to have the slit the chit's throat as an infant.

In the first timeline, when Lord Wyatt had reigned over the world, with only a small Resistance fighting him, things had been so glorious for Evil. Lord Wyatt had been powerful and arrogant, and manipulating his vanity had been easy. His younger sister was significantly more clever and cunning, but her lack of resources and PTSD, combined with her sentimental desire to keep her followers alive, had ensured that the Resistance remained too weak to really threaten Wyatt's Empire.

But then they'd captured Nikolas Perry, the Phoenix traitor, in the Attic of Halliwell Memorial Museum, and after several months of torture, they'd finally managed to break him and discover the girl's desperate Hail Mary of a plan.

Lord Wyatt had been infuriated, calling it cheating, (the man had always considered the war to be more of a game between himself and his younger sister than a proper war, unlike his advisors, who took Elizabeth Halliwell as a legitimate threat. Unlike Lord Wyatt, they knew she was too loyal and too Good to ever agree to submit to her brother.) but he hadn't really believed that she would be successful in changing the timeline.

Izax was not so arrogant, however. He had put plans in place to protect himself from the timeline changing in the event of the girl's success. That was why, on November 27th 2025, the same day Liz Halliwell had returned to a new world, his own memories had also been restored.

Looking and comparing his memories of the two timelines, Izax had known that he would need to act quickly to restore Evil's dominance. And turning a Halliwell witch evil would be key. Evil had only succeeded by luring the Twice-Blessed to their side, for more reasons than just his raw strength. If it had just been magic, then Elizabeth's skill in spellcraft and superior intellect would've won the day. She was nearly as powerful, after all, and far more intelligent. Her emotions and the way her mother had ingrained 'family first' into her from infancy had been her greatest failing.

The Good Halliwells couldn't bear to defeat their blood. Liz's weak heart and inability to kill the brother she had once adored had been the reason she couldn't win the war, as only she had the power to match him. Had it not been for that, she could've killed Wyatt while they were both still teens, preventing the war from ever starting. Instead she'd tried to convert him back to Good, then bind his powers. And when it had turned into an all-out war, she had always hesitated minutely whenever the chance to kill her sibling came, allowing him to regain the upper-hand.

But it had been too late by the time Izax regained his memories of the first timeline to turn Wyatt back to evil. He was too good in this timeline, and carefully watched by his younger sister and her treacherous lover, who would've picked up on any indication of him becoming evil immediately and taken action.

Izax had gone over the different possibilities and characters of the various Halliwells, and finally he'd come to the conclusion that it would have to be Prue Halliwell. She was the most powerful of the Charmed Ones, and she had a vicious streak of anger in her. It had been her who created the crystal cage that her family now tortured demons in. She was arrogant, and held a grudge. Of all the Charmed Ones, turning her evil would be simplest. And turning the Charmed Ones in their early years would be simpler than one of their children, as by then they were experienced and Liz's revelation of her first timeline had kept them on their guards for anything.

So he had gone back in time, and altered the events of Shax's attack, saving the eldest Halliwell sister. Then he had planted a seed of evil in her soul that had grown stronger, nurtured by each death she failed to prevent and the revelation of her youngest sister being sent away to protect her from the Elders. It had gotten worse when her part of the Power of Three had shifted to Paige, the magic detecting the evil that had taken root in her soul. They had been unable to understand what had happened, and it had caused resentment towards her sisters to grow in Prue's mind.

She had been there when her sisters had defeated the Source, and none of them had seen the spirit enter her. Prue's reign had been as prosperous for evil as her nephew's had been in another life. More, in some ways. The resistance was smaller, more fractured in this life. In Lord Wyatt's time, Elizabeth had grown up watching her mother strategize with Cole and Phoebe to defeat the Titans and protect witches from Pratt's New Inquisition. In this, she hadn't had that advantage, and she hadn't had the same skill in warding due to lack of access to the necessary books, either. She and her brother had been running out of places to hide, and everyone had known there would be a confrontation soon. One the weakened Halliwell siblings were doomed to lose. Everything had been going perfectly.

But now it was all collapsing, and once again it was Elizabeth's fault. But he had worked against her in three lives. He knew how her mind worked and what she would do. She would go back in time and kill her aunt, hoping to chang the Balance back to Good. All he had to keep the timeline the way it was, was discover that point and stop her.

He turned sharply and stalked to the door, intent on his mission. First things first. He had a Seer to visit.


	12. Charmed Ones' Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz and Niko talk, and the Charmed Ones make a painful decision

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Read, enjoy, review!**

**Chapter Twelve**

**The Charmed Ones' Choice**

_ **San Francisco, Halliwell Manor: November 2nd, 2010** _

Liz stood before the cauldron, adding the ingredients and stirring the mixture by route. This particular vanquishing potion was strong for most people, but was one of the many that the Halliwell clan kept stocked constantly. Liz had learned to make it as a child, standing beside her mother and watching with wide eyes as Piper prepared the purple potion with as much confidence and ease as when she cooked a gourmet meal.

Niko was leaning against the wall in the corner, watching her silently with an assessing look.

"If you're looking for differences, you won't find many," Liz informed him finally. "I saw the third timeline through my eyes, heard my thoughts and felt her feelings. I _am_ Beth Halliwell, as much as I'm General Eliza Bennet of the first timeline or Liz Halliwell, heir to Excalibur in the second."

"Eliza Bennet?" he repeated, the tone indicating it was a question. He made it appear to be an idle one, but Liz knew Niko thrice as well as he knew her. He was fishing for info, trying to decide whether to trust her or put a knife between her shoulders the moment she turned her back on him. She didn't even blame him for it, though it did sting a bit.

But Liz understood. Her family would never be able to comprehend it, not fully. She didn't want them to. The gnawing ache of constant hunger, combined with exhaustion from running from one temporary roof to another, always looking over your shoulder for the next attacker, while still keep an eye on your front too. Not to mention the fighting for things that sometimes seemed to have never been anything more than the shade of a dream.

In the first timeline, Liz had never seen a clear blue sky until she went back to 2003. The damage wrecked by the Titans during their hunt for the Elders and Whitelighters, combined with the destruction from Piper and Phoebe's quest for vengeance for their baby sister and the nukes dropped by the various mortal governments to try and end the threat, had turned the sky dull and overcast, with frequent, catastrophic storms.

The Titans had never escaped in the third timeline, but the war had been as difficult and long-term. The Charmed Ones had been reluctant to kill their sister, unlike in the first timeline where Liz had tried once to bind Wyatt's powers and, when that plan had failed, she had turned to trying to kill him. She just hadn't had the strength for it, either magical or emotional.

Wyatt hadn't shared her sentimental attitude.

"Yes," she replied to Niko's question. "I needed an alias, seeing as I was the world's number one most wanted fugitive, preferably alive but dead was fine too. But I was wary of using something completely different, in case I tipped someone off by not responding. Eliza is short for Elizabeth, and Bennet was my grandfather's surname, I faked a British accent and it was a common enough name so," she shrugged.

In hindsight, she hadn't made the best choice, but she'd still been young. With her sole remaining cousin clinging to her leg and a thousand people looking to her to take over her mother and aunt's places as Leader of the Resistance, choosing a suitably obscure alias hadn't been her focus.

"I used others, like Min Jackson or Thea Storm later, but Eliza Bennet was the name people had for the Leader of the Resistance."

He nodded, looking thoughtful to someone who could see beneath the blank mask. "Why Min Jackson and Thea Storm?"

She shrugged again, adding a teaspoon of saffron to the potion and stirring it counter-clockwise three times as Piper had shown her. "People nicknamed me Athena, after the Greek goddess of War and Battle Strategy. I chose them because of that. Thea could be used a nickname for Athena, while Minerva was the Roman aspect of the goddess. Jackson was my mentor's maiden name, and I can create small storms by combining my different elemental powers so that's where the surnames come from. When I went to 2003, I used Liz Perry."

He jerked at that, before going even again. People knew him as Nikolas of the Pheonix clan, not Nikolas Perry, a half-Mexican who grew up in San Francisco. But no doubt he'd picked up on her using his surname as part of her alias. "Married, huh?"

"Yup." She nodded, keeping relaxed and calm, as if she wasn't screaming and tearing her hair out inside at going through this dance _again._ Her and Niko's relationship had never, in any life, been relaxed. Really, the first time around it had been verging on toxic, much as she loved him. They had spent the first year of knowing each other alternating between trying to kill/capture each other, or else having sex. And there had never been time to go on dates or just spend time together doing whatever, unless you counted sparring or debating the Resistance's next attack strategy. Despite that, he had become her anchor, and she his moral compass (not that Liz could say much. She had never told her family about the mortals she'd killed, or that one innocent, all with her own two hands. It was just that, unlike evil, Liz regretted and hated to kill people. But if it was a choice between staining her soul, and protecting the majority, Liz would always go for her knife.). Eventually it had come to the point that Niko loved her enough to sacrifice the world for her life.

The second time around, they had still been grieving for an entire world when the timeline had been altered again. They'd known what they were doing, and things were incomparably better after Liz had changed hr brother's morality. But they had still lost friends, comrades. A child. They were the only two people left in the universe who knew about Hope Piper Halliwell. They had clung to each other and married the moment they reunited, desperate to keep hold of something. Her Aunt Phoebe had tried gently to tell her that she and Niko had a co-dependant relationship, as if Liz hadn't known that already.

In the third timeline, she and Niko had still been hovering on a precipice between trust and lust. They worked together out of mutual loathing for Prue Halliwell. They kissed and had sex to feel alive, and Niko was like a drug to her. She knew he was a bad idea, but she kept coming back for more anyways.

"Liz," he called, and she raised her head automatically, surprised and dismayed to realize that her vision swam.

He'd called her Liz instead of Beth, she noted, watching silently as he made his way to her. Why?

Niko cupped her jaw and inclined her head upwards, lowering his own. She sighed as their lips met, Niko pulling her close to him.

Nikolas Perry of the Phoenix Clan was an unhealthy addiction for her, but Liz had been marked for hell for years for the things she'd done in her lives, so she didn't care. She kissed him back thoroughly, orbing them both to the bathroom and using telekinesis to switch on the shower and lock the door as her blouse (borrowed from Phoebe) fell to the floor along with the shirt Leo had loaned him.

* * *

Piper stared silently down at the familiar passage written in Prudence Warren-Wentworth's writing on the page in front of her.

_With each generation, the Warren witches will grow stronger and stronger until, at last, three sisters will arrive. Together, these three sisters will be the most powerful witches the world has ever known, they will defeat all kinds of evil. They will be known as The Charmed Ones._

Underneath the paragraph, Phoebe had stuck two photos. On the left was a picture of the second incarnation of the Power of Three, heading out to a party at P3 for Phoebe's birthday: Paige was on the left wearing a red belly top and denim skirt with a bright grin, Phoebe on the right in a purple cocktail dress and Piper in the centre, her elbows linked through theirs. She herself was wearing a rose-coloured halter dress with her hair curled for once.

The other showed Prue, Piper and Phoebe, dressed in casual clothes and laughing together at the park. They'd taken it several months after Piper's marriage, before Shax had ruined everything. Back when they hadn't known anything about Paige's existence, and the three of them had still been sisters, loyal to each other above all. Convinced that not even death could break the bonds that joined them together apart. How had it all gone so wrong?

"It's not your fault, Piper," Leo murmured, wrapping his arms around her. "None of it is your fault."

"She's my sister, Leo," Piper responded, turning to bury her head in his chest. "My _sister._ She was my best friend, my protector. She's a Charmed One, how I can I even think-?"

"She's not your Prue anymore, Piper," Leo interrupted her gently. "Or a Charmed One. She's the Source of All Evil. A demon intervened to save her from Shax, and that demon turned her against everything the Warren line has ever stood for, making the Power of Three repudiate her to avoid the rest of you turning evil as well. I know this is probably the worst thing you could ever go through, the most painful choice you've ever had to make. But you heard what Liz said. Are you prepared to choose Prue over our kids, your younger sisters, me, the world? Would the Prue you loved want you to do that?"

"No," Piper answered, voice cracking in pain. No, the Prue she had adored so much would've been revolted by the very thought. After they'd become the Charmed Ones and accepted their fate, Prue had been the fiercest of them all when it came to their destiny.

Phoebe had alternated between loving and hating their lives, Piper had hated it constantly but put her all into it. Paige had taken to witchcraft and defending innocents better than any of them.

But Prue had put the most effort into it, been the most determined to fight evil. Sometimes Piper had wondered if her older sister wanted to go down to the Underworld and kill every last demon that existed, one-by-one.

It was impossible for her to reconcile the Prue who'd forgone sleep in favour of researching whichever demon was their quarry of the time, with the woman her daughter described, who murdered Piper, their younger sisters, and Piper's husband. Worst of all, Prue had spent years trying to track down and kill _Piper's babies._

How could she?

Piper didn't realize she had spoken the question aloud until Phoebe, who had just entered with Paige at her heels, the both of them looking tired and strained, replied. Despite how exhausted the third-born Halliwell daughter looked, her expression and voice were set with determination.

"Easily, because she's_ not_ Prue. Our Prue died fighting Shax. That woman with black eyes going around the Underworld gathering an army and murdering innocents, that's _not _our sister. It's an imposter tainting her memory and her legacy. We've let ourselves hesitate for too long, Piper. We have to stop her, before she kills us. For Wy and Lizziebet's sakes, for Dad and Cole and the entire fucking world, we_ have_ to stop her!"

Phoebe's voice had risen as she spoke, gathering steam, and her brown eyes looked nearly crazed when she mentioned their father and her husband.

"_Grandpa won't last the year," _Liz had said about their father, expression stony. _"Prue will attack him, trying to draw you guys out. You'll come too late to save him. The three of you will survive, but not much longer. Six months later, you'll go after her, leaving the two of us with Dad. You won't come back."_

And Cole.

"_Uncle Cole wasn't killed by a demon, like Prue said," _Liz had murmured, guilt flashing across her gaunt face as she glanced at Phoebe, who covered her mouth and shook her head in denial as realization dawned. _"It didn't come out for a long time, and I still don't know the details. But I know that Uncle Cole figured out that something was up with Prue. Maybe he didn't realize how far gone she was, or thought he could get through to her or trick her or something. I don't know. But he confronted her, and she stabbed him, then sliced his throat, to make absolutely sure he couldn't give her away. I'm so sorry, Aunt Phoebe."_

Piper looked at Paige. "You agree," she stated. "You think we should k, kill Prue. Our sister."

Paige looked guilty for a moment, then met Piper's eyes. "_You're _my sister, Piper. You and Phoebe. I only knew Prue for a few months before she left, and you know that she didn't exactly welcome me with open arms."

Piper hadn't done so either, offended on Prue's behalf at this young stranger stumbling into their lives and stealing Prue's position as the telekinetic of the Power of Three. But she hadn't been cruel, the way Prue was. And she had only been cold for less than a month before Leo and Phoebe's pleas, as well as her own instinctive love for her sisters, had made her thaw.

Paige was still speaking. "I don't like doing this, Piper. Even ignoring she's our sister, she's human. I don't want to murder someone. But our responsibilities as the Charmed Ones are clear. Defend the innocent. And our responsibilities to your children are clear as well: keep them safe, happy and healthy. Think of that young man cooing over his new son, your grandson, and that woman who's mixing up vanquishing potions right now, half-starved and after having to burn her clothes because they were ruined by her husband's blood. Blood that Prue spilled.

Then think of Wy and Lizzie, the way they are now. Do you really want to see them become those people, so sad and hunted?"

And really, what else was there to say? For her children, Piper would do anything. Even kill the sister she still loved so dearly.

"Okay," she said, but her voice was so hoarse it came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat and nodded, squaring her shoulders and calling up the images of her babies to strengthen her resolve. "Okay," she repeated. "Where're Liz and Wyatt? We're doing this."


	13. Plots and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halliwell prep to go back to 2001

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Read, enjoy and review, and thanks to everyone reading and enjoying this.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Plots and Plans**

_ **San Francisco, Halliwell Manor: November 2nd, 2010** _

"So, this is what we're going to do," Liz declared to the gathered group. "We use the time travel spell to travel to the attic of May 1st, 2001, while Mom, Aunt Phoebe and, _Her,_ are out fetching Doctor Griffiths. Then, we use a cloaking spell to hide ourselves when they arrive. We wait in the hallway, and make sure that Prue is killed by Shax. Soon as it's over, the timeline should revert to normal and we'll snap back into place. Simple, but I've always found those are the best plans. No detailed plan survives first contact with the enemy, believe you me."

"Yeah, we've got a bit of experience with that," Paige commented with a smirk that failed to reach her tense brown eyes.

They had gathered in the attic to plan out their strategy. She and her soulmate had been caught by Aunt Paige in the bathroom together, but her youngest aunt had merely snickered and tapped her nose three times, telling her they were ready to talk about what they were going to do.

Niko was beside her, sharpening an athame he'd found in the attic and looking bored. Liz knew him well though, and knew that he was listening as intently as the rest of them.

Her mother and father were on Aunt Pearl's couch. Piper looked tired and worn out. She clutched a picture of Lizziebet and Wy, and kept looking down at it. Knowing her mother as she did, both as a parent and a charge, Liz assumed she was reminding herself why she was plotting to ensure the death of her elder sister.

Wyatt had orbed a loveseat and some chairs up to the attic. He and Emily had taken over the loveseat, with baby Matthew (or Mattie, as the aunts were calling him) cradled to his mother's breast while the two aunts were sitting on the chairs.

Liz herself was standing at the lectern, the Book of Shadows open and turned to the page with the magic-preserving time travel spell in front of her.

"Hang on, question!" Wyatt raised his hand like a child in middle school.

Liz rolled her eyes and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, Wyatt?"

"Okay, so you say that the timeline will just revert to normal, right?" he checked.

"Yes," she nodded her head.

"What normal, 'cause I don't fancy living in a world ruled by another Source, ya know?" he said it lightly, but she read the anxiety in his eyes. Anxiety for her, his wife and new son. She had never given details about the other timeline, but he knew enough to fear it.

Liz exhaled tiredly, a gust of breath making her ragged bangs fly out of her eyes. "It'll revert to the original paradox," she said flatly. "Meaning, you are only going to remember the second timeline. Don't worry, you're not gonna be stuck in that particular version of hell."

"Will we remember all of this?" Emily wondered. "Actually, won't this be a paradox too? And are you sure that we'll just go back to where we're supposed to be? I mean, in 2004-"

"I don't know what we will and will not remember," Liz cut her sister-in-law's barrage of questions off. "Yes, this will be a paradox as well, but so long as we get it right _this_ time, we will _every_ time. Circular paradoxes are when everything occurs in exactly the same way they did the first time around. In fact, for all we know we've gone through all of this shit before. And we will certainly go back to where we're meant to be, either way. Why'd you think I ended up back in 2025 after being lethally injured in 2004? I didn't exactly orb there, you know."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her parents and brother wincing, and felt a stab of guilt. Usually, she was better at not being so, well, fucked up was the only way to describe it. Or at least, she was better at _acting_like it. Even in the second timeline, before completing the paradox, Liz had been messed up. Came with the territory when you were a Halliwell and the heir to Excalibur mixed into one.

"What's the cloaking spell?" Aunt Phoebe asked hastily to dispel the stressful tension that had filled the air. Although Liz had not time travelled to 2003 in this particular timeline, she had briefly explained the whole thing to the Charmed Ones. Including how she had died at the hands of Leo's mentor, shielding the infant version of her older brother.

"It's a mixture of a protection spell and a cloaking spell, actually," Liz shrugged. "I read it in a book once, tried it out and it worked." It had been in her first life. She had found a snippet of a torn page with the rhyme on it. It hadn't been until her second life that she had realized the page had come from a Septimus Heap storybook, not a genuine spellbook. Just went to show the power in a witch's words.

She took a deep breath, released it, then began to chant. "Let me fade into the air," she recited it. "let those who seek me know not where, let them that seek me, pass me by, let no harm reach me from their eye."

She felt a shiver go down her spine, and Phoebe let out a yelp of surprise, signalling the spell had worked. She released the spell a second later, and her parents' rigid shoulders relaxed in relief at her reappearance.

"Okay, but how will _we _see each other?" Paige wondered. "I mean, we can't exactly help each other out if we're not able to see the others."

"I have a spell for that too," Liz assured her youngest aunt promptly.

"Do you have a spell for everything?" Paige asked laughingly, trying to dispel the tension.

"Yes," Liz declared, not batting an eyelid. She did too. Spells for purifying water, spells for battle. Spells for protection and spells for communication. Everything she needed, she got with magic. And she knew how to get around the personal gain thing, too.

In fact, getting around the personal gain price was so simple, it was almost funny that people didn't think of it. You had somebody else do the spell for you, or you did it for a friend. For example, if _Liz_ were to use a spell to repair one of her_ own _tops, it would be personal gain and the shirt would probably end up in worse shape than beforehand. _However, _if _Emily _used a spell to fix one of_ Liz's_ shirts, there'd be no problem at all. Simple.

She was broken out of her internal musings by her sister-in-law's anxious question.

"What are we gonna do about Mattie?" Emily spoke up, her brow crinkled in worry. "We can't bring him with us, but we definitely can't leave him behind on his own, either."

"Dang it, I didn't think of that," Wyatt groaned, running a hand through his damp curls (he and Emily had both taken it in turns to shower while the other watched the baby, and he had only just finished his own wash right before the Charmed Ones had called the family meeting.).

"Liz," he turned to her. "What do we do?"

Liz hesitated, glancing at her husband, if he could still be called that when they were from separate timelines. He grimaced at her, shrugging.

"We'll have to bring him with us, I guess," Liz finally sighed. She was unsurprised by the instant protests.

"But he's a_ baby_!"

"No way!"

"Are you insane, Elizabeth?"

"He's a newborn! It's too dangerous!"

"Liz, no!"

Niko put two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp whistle, cooling the outraged uproar from the rest of the Halliwells. As for the topic of the disagreement, little Mattie simply squirmed and snuggled closer to Emily, who clutched him closely to her chest, as if she could shield him from everything that threatened him. Liz wished life were so simple.

"Cool it, you people," Niko ordered. They all glared at him in a way that would have intimidated most men. Niko was not most men. "Liz, you might wanna explain your reasoning to 'em, before they lose their heads again."

She flashed him a half-smile, and he nodded back. His expression was as neutral as it ever was in strategy meetings. But in his caramel eyes she saw his steady confidence and assurance. How could any version of her manage without this man and his steadfast support?

"We can't leave him behind," Liz stated softly, looking back at her family. "And not just because he's too young to be left alone. But once we leave, this timeline will be erased. And because Mattie was born outside of his proper timeline, if he's here when it goes, he won't just appear in his proper timeline like we will. He'll fade away with everyone else in this timeline. We have to bring him with us."

"Are you sure that he'll come back with us to our timeline?" Wyatt interjected quickly. He and Emily had gone white with fear at her explanation, and Wyatt had an arm wrapped protectively around his wife and son, keeping them close to him.

"You know I would never risk my family, Wyatt," Liz half-stated, half-pleaded.

He winced and nodded. "Of course you wouldn't," he agreed. "I never meant to imply otherwise."

"Good," Liz relaxed a fraction. She glanced around, mildly surprised by how quiet the sisters and Leo had been throughout the meeting. She wasn't used to it, in any timeline.

"Any other questions?" she checked.

Everyone glanced around at each other, shaking their heads.

"Well then," Piper stood, looking a mixture of determined and drained. "Let's do this, shall we?"

* * *

_ **San Francisco, Halliwell Manor: May 1st 2001** _

Izax stepped out of the glowing, dark-blue, portal, not bothering to glance back as it closed behind him the instant he was out. He surveyed the attic of the Charmed Ones in the year 2001. It was much the same as ever, but unprotected by the countless wards that they would later fortify their family home with, in every timeline. It was a wonder that they had survived their first few years as witches, given their lackadaisical attitude towards their own protection and magical education.

The sound of urgent voices below caught his attention, and he quietly crept down the stairs, his power of invisibility (stolen from a witch many years ago) active and shielding him from the gaze of the witches.

The three original Charmed Ones were dashing around their foyer, getting ready to go out and find their innocent. Piper and Prue were tugging on coats, while Phoebe pulled on her runners.

"What did the demon look like, again?" Prue was asking. "Upper-level, right?"

"Definitely," Phoebe nodded. "I checked in the Book. It's called Shax, he's one of the Source's assassins. There's a Power of Three vanquishing spell for him."

"The Source, _again_," Piper complained. "Can't we have a week without him messing things up for us? I was supposed to be interviewing a new bartender tonight! Instead I have to go demon hunting. Ugh."

"I know honey," Prue sympathized. "It's annoying. But we'll deal with him soon enough, I promise. Then things can go back to normal."

"Yeah, once a month demon vanquishings instead of once a week," Piper retorted. "Pheebes, what's the address?"

"Uhm, gimme a second," Phoebe picked up a piece of paper and scanned it quickly. "Okay, so the innocent is Doctor David Griffiths, a trauma room surgeon. He's gonna be attacked in two hours at his home: 35 Greenfield Square. Oh, I know that neighbourhood! One of my ex's lived there!"

"Great, so you can drive," Prue told her. "Come on! Innocent in danger! Let's get a move on, girls!"

"We're coming, we're coming!" Piper flung her arms up, making a vase shatter and her sisters duck and shoot her irritated looks. Her cheeks went red in embarrassment. "Uh, sorry."

"Our insurance agent must despise us," Phoebe mused as they left, slamming the door shut behind them.

Izax let his glamour end, and turned expectantly towards where his younger self had also released his own camouflage.

Young Izax glared at him warily, claws cocked to attack. "Who are you?" the demon demanded suspiciously.

"I am you," Izax replied. He reached out, touching his other self's forehead and sending a bolt of pure magic into him. It was harmless, but it proved his claim.

Young Izax relaxed. "Why are you here? Did we fail?"

"No, we did not," Izax assured himself. His expression darkened then. "Elizabeth Halliwell is why I am here."


	14. May Day Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halliwells go back to May 1st, 2001

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**The May Day Battle**

_ **Halliwell Manor,** _ _ ** San Francisco: November 3rd, 2010** _

"Everybody ready?" Liz asked, casting her gaze over the assembled group.

Little Mattie was tucked safely into an old sling that Piper had once carried her own children in, tied across his mother's torso, with Wyatt standing by Emily's side. With the help of Leo's healing, Emily was as healthy as she could be, in such a malnourished and damaged body. Some things just couldn't be fixed by magic, no matter how hard you tried.

Niko was drawing the triquetra on the wall, in a nerve-wrecking echo of the first timeline. But instead of a red leather jacket and jeans, he wore cargo pants with multiple pockets containing potions. He also had on a slim-fitting t-shirt that showed off how, despite his hunger-pang frame, he still had a six-pack. A pair of knives were attached to his hips and he had a rifle slung over his back, just in case. Liz herself was dressed in a feminine version of the outfit, with Excalibur in place of the rifle. Her parents hadn't been pleased with the gun's presence, but Liz had insisted on Niko's behalf. They had spent most of the night hollowing the bullets to fill them with some strong vanquishing potions, and she could only hope it would be enough.

The sisters and Leo were gathered together beside the lectern where the Book lay. Thankfully, they had dressed in practical trousers, runners and shirts, instead of ridiculous high heels and skirts that would constrict their movements. Liz had spent months in 2003 despairing over their lackadaisical attitude towards demon fighting. It relieved her to see them being serious and not cocky.

"We're ready," Piper announced. She wore a hollow expression, and Liz had to look away, guilt making her heart clench tightly. The sisters and Leo knew that they would be destroying their timeline by doing this, and they were taking it hard. Not to mention Prue.

"I still remember this timeline, Mom," she murmured. "It's not going to be fully gone, I promise. As long as something is remembered, it still is."

Piper gave a forced smile. "Don't worry about me, sweetie," she cooed at her like she was five-years-old again. "This is, it's for the best. But-"

Whatever Piper wanted to say was cut off by the wards suddenly flaring. Everyone was instantly on alert, hands raising to prepare to use magic, whilst Emily wrapped her arms around Mattie, who had started to cry, and curled over him to protect him.

The wards flared again, making Liz swear.

"Fucking hell! Niko, is it finished?"

"I got it, I got it," he snapped back, finishing off the last bit and jumping away. "Hurry the hell up, Liz!"

Shimmers started making the air wobble, as demons began trying to force their way in.

"So this is why we made a run for it," Wyatt mumbled, as Liz pushed past him to stand in front of the triquetra. Piper grabbed the Book of Shadows and the sisters and Leo ran over to join them.

"Hear my words, hear my cry," Liz chanted quickly, eyeing the shimmers warily. In the third timeline, the sisters had managed to fend off the invaders, but they had been exposed as witches in the process. Prue had already killed the Cleaners, and the witch hunters were just starting to take off due to her public and brutal murders of various mortals. The Halliwells had been forced to flee, beginning the Resistance. But they had not been as active as they should have been. They had focused on saving innocents and defence, not making their own strikes back against Prue and her armies. And by the time the sisters had gathered the courage to go after their eldest sister, it had been far too late.

"Heed the hope within my mind," Liz continued. "Send me back to where I'll find, what I wish in place and time." As she conjured the glowing blue-and-white portal, she kept the date and time they needed fixed in her mind: May 1st, 2001, 7.30 a.m. The attic of Halliwell Manor.

"Go!" she ordered her family, feeling a sense of déja vu from her, Wyatt and Emily's flight from the future to 2010 with the heavily-injured Niko. "It won't close until I go through, but you guys gotta go first. Mom, Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige first, with Dad right after them. If there's a demon, blast 'em back to the hell that they came from. Then Wy and Em, then Niko and I go last."

The wards flared again, and nobody argued with her, the Charmed Ones running into the portal with their hands held ready for a fight. Leo darted after them.

"I am so sick of time travel," Wyatt complained as he tugged Emily forward, poor little Mattie bawling his unhappiness to all the world as they jumped in. Niko paused to press a kiss to Liz's lips before he followed them.

"See you on the other side, Angel."

"I'm right behind you, Firebird," she answered, just before he stepped in. She paused, glancing around in case anything had been left behind. As she began making her way to the portal, a demon finally managed to get through. She didn't give it a chance to attack her, sending a stream of fire at him as she dived in.

* * *

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: May 1st, 2001** _

She came out rolling and jack-knifed to her feet, automatically scanning the area for threats. Thankfully, only her family was around. They were scattered around the room, with Emily sitting on the sofa and nursing the baby to soothe his distress. Poor kid, Liz thought absently. If today's gonna be an average day for him, he's gonna go through hell during puberty.

"Everyone manage okay?" she asked, shaking the ridiculous thought away.

"Yeah," Phoebe nodded. "You?"

"I'm good," she assured them. "Okay, so if I got the time right, you guys should be getting Doctor Griffins-"

"Griffiths," Phoebe corrected her, making Liz roll her eyes.

"Does it really matter?" she retorted. "Anyway, you guys should be getting Doctor Griffi_ths_ to come with you back to the Manor right about now. That's when it'll happen. Prue has to die today, or the world goes to hell."

The others (save Niko who was stoic) were pale-faced but determined.

"We know," Piper said, nodding. Her fists were clenched. "We know. We're up for this, sweetie, I promise. I won't let you down Baby."

"I know, Mom," Liz agreed. "You never have."

"Shall we, then?" Phoebe asked, wearing a wooden expression.

"Yeah," Liz muttered. "Link hands while we say the spell, that way we'll be able to see and hear each other once we're cloaked. Concentrate on seeing and hearing each other, while being blocked from anyone else's sight while you cast."

They all shuffled into a circle and took hold of each other's hands. Liz ended up with Leo holding her left hand and Niko her right. She took a deep breath then began to chant in unison with her family.

"Let me fade into the air," she recited with the others. "let those who seek me know not where, let them that seek me, pass me by, let no harm reach me from their eye."

A second later, they had disappeared from the eyes of anybody looking. Even to themselves, they seemed more like faded shadows than actual figures. It was disconcerting, but Liz pushed the strangeness away and headed for the door, the others at her heels.

* * *

Izax watched through narrow eyes as the group of Halliwells descended the staircase. Thank Evil itself, he had learned a way to see through Elizabeth's damned shielding spell, otherwise he wouldn't have a clue that she had more than just her powerless brother and his pregnant lover with herself and her own lover.

Instead of going up against one incarnation of the Charmed Ones with the help of Elizabeth Halliwell and Niko Phoenix (without his powers, Wyatt Halliwell was utterly useless, and his woman, whatever her name was, Izax couldn't remember, was more of a hindrance than anything else.), as he had expected, Izax was in a very precarious position. Just them would've been a handful, even for him, but _two_ versions of the prophesied sisters, along with the ever-irritating Elizabeth and her treacherous boytoy? This was a catastrophe, and Izax silently raged in frustration as he contemplated what to do.

Finally he decided there was no other option. He had to go forward with the plan his future self had come up with and communicated to him when he had given Young Izax his memories before killing himself to give the younger version his powers and boost his strength.

Damn Elizabeth Halliwell to the deepest, darkest depths of Hell, Izax thought darkly as he followed them silently.

Downstairs, the three sisters were just stumbling back in, mortal in tow. Phoebe Halliwell was sent up to the attic to find the needed vanquishing spell, whilst her sisters remained behind. Time rippled while Prue was trying to convince the doctor she and her sisters weren't insane, and it put the young versions of the witches on their guard.

Izax got ready, spying the other time travellers also preparing for battle.

Shax came crashing through the door, making the sisters yell. An aerokinetic blast was sent at Prue and Izax tried to deflect it, but Liz prevented him doing so. But he _did _manage to let Prue move out of the way, so she was only clipped by the blast. A second later, the entire manor dissolved into complete chaos as the spells keeping the time travellers suddenly failed, revealing their presence.

"What the fuck is going on?" Doctor Griffiths screamed, back pressed up against the wall and terror on his face.

"What the-?" the younger Charmed Ones yelped.

"Who the heck are you people?" Prue demanded, hands raised.

"Leo!" Younger Piper cried, spotting him. She accidentally blew up the grandfather clock, and a second later she was sent flying through the wall to land, unconscious, in a pile of debris, by Shax. Liz swore and jumped at the demonic hitman, Niko right behind her.

"Piper!" Piper's sisters and husband yelled. Leo orbed to her straight away, collapsing to his knees at her side and sticking out his hands, the golden glow that surrounded them showing that he was healing her.

"Fucking hell!" Niko swore, catching sight of Izax out of the corner of his eye. "Liz, it's Izax! He must be behind all of this shit! Fuck, watch out!"

"Little busy right now, Firebird!" she called back, too busy trying not to die and kill Shax at the same time to pay much attention to her husband's words. She had somehow ended up on Shax's back, and she was trying to drive Excalibur into the front of his chest without falling off, swearing in a steady stream of violent curses in between talking to Niko.

Emily was cowering in the corner, shielding her wailing child, whilst Wyatt stood in front of them, athame raised and protecting his small family with his body, given he had no shield.

Meanwhile, the older Charmed Ones had spotted Izax. They had heard Niko's call to Liz, and were enraged.

"You!" Older Piper cried in accusation, pointing at him. "You're the one who's responsible for all of this, everything that's happened to my family! You're the one who cursed my sister, tormented my babies!"

Izax observed his situation. Prue was now joining forces with her three younger sisters. All of the Charmed Ones, the most powerful witches in history, were advancing on him, and soon enough they would be backed up by Liz and Niko, who were nearly done killing Shax. Niko was in the process of holding Shax at bay through his power-draining, giving Liz the chance to finish the demonic assassin off with her sword.

Discretion is the best part of valour, Izax thought to himself. Things had clearly spun out of control, but he could deal with it, revise his plans and make another attempt. First things first, however. Escape. He was again thankful for the lack of wards on the current version of the Halliwell Manor. It meant that they weren't able to stop him from lunging towards the cowering mortal.

He grabbed the man, using him as a shield. The sisters cried out in horror as Piper's blast at Izax's chest instead hit the mortal right in the heart. Izax used the distraction to shimmer away, reappearing in an empty cavern in the Underworld, where he could rest and recover, and figure out a way to salvage his plans.

"Damn that girl," he muttered to himself. "Damn her to the deepest, darkest part of the Pit."


	15. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Halliwells figure out what Izax has done and make preparations.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Thanks to everyone enjoying this!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Promises**

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: May 1st, 2001** _

Niko paced the kitchen, throwing his knife from hand to hand as he listened to the Charmed Ones (both versions) 'loudly discuss' the reason for their arrival in 2001 in the conservatory. Evidently, the younger versions weren't too happy about, well, any of it, it seemed. Wyatt and Emily hd gone off to soothe Mattie to sleep, whilst he and his wife? lover? were in the kitchen.

Liz was braced against the kitchen island, staring at the wall unseeingly and wearing a deep frown.

Gods of all religions, she was so beautiful. How the fuck had he fallen in love with _Elizabeth Halliwell_ of all the people in the world? And what amazing deed had he performed in his past lives to earn her love in return?

Not that loving her was easy, quite the contrary in fact. In many ways, he barely even knew her. They didn't exactly spend their time together talking about their hopes and dreams for the future both of them doubted they would have. They spent most of their limited time either having sex or fighting demons together. They argued often, both of them too stubborn to back down from their opinions when they felt they were in the right of it. She made him want to rip chunks of his hair out from frustration and stress.

But then again, what had was that quote he had read once?

Doing the _easy _thing is never doing the_ right_ thing.

Loving Elizabeth, no matter how many lives she had crammed into her head or versions of her name that she went by, was_ definitely_ the right thing to do. No matter how many times he swore that he wouldn't meet up with her again, that it wasn't worth the stress and risk of treason charges, he still always ended up finding his way back to her. Apparently, he would literally follow her through time.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her. "Are they gonna kill each other?" He was actually seriously concerned about that. In his experience, arguments with witches (especially Warren witches) involved tended to result in explosions. In this case, there was a paradox risk as well as a risk to property and life. If they were gonna murder each other, he wanted to be on the other side of the Atlantic first, so as to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

"Probably not," she replied absently. "But it's always a possibility in my family. And I'm thinking of how badly wrong that went. Plus, why the fuck is _Izax_ of all demons here? _How_ is he here? At this point, he should just be some low-level demon, stealing powers through trickery. He shouldn't even be _thinking_ of taking on the Charmed Ones, it'd be suicide. He's arrogant, but he's also damn clever. This doesn't make any sense. I'm missing something."

Niko tapped his athame against his chin, thinking of Izax. He only knew a little of the demon's history prior to the Takeover, but he knew a lot about his abilities in the future. But all of his knowledge started after Prue's rise to power, with Izax clinging to her coattails.

"Do you anything else about him, from your other lives?"

Liz shrugged, her fingers tapping in a staccato pattern on the countertop. "He's a lot smarter than he lets people know," she mused. "Likes to hide in the shadows and pull the strings of whomever seems to be in charge, so even they don't realize it."

"I hate those ones," Niko commented. "They're a lot harder to kill than the ones that monologue on their evil schemes and goals for world domination for hours until you shut 'em up with a knife to the throat."

A grin flashed over Liz's expression before she returned to her brooding. Niko didn't try and break her from her thoughts like he occasionally did. Liz had two versions of brooding: there were her brooding sessions over painful memories that she needed to be distracted from, and there was her brooding over things to make a plan to deal with the current crisis. This was the latter.

Leo, the younger version that had arrived with the young Phoebe and Cole Turner (who had been warmly greeted by the elder Charmed Ones, Future Phoebe latching onto him and keeping a tight grip on him, as if he would disappear into thin air if she didn't. Prue, on the other hand, had nearly killed him. The half-demon had survived only through the intervention of the older Charmed Ones and the two Blessed Ones) shortly after Izax had fled, came wandering into the kitchen, wearing a tired and worried expression. It was mixed with amazement went he looked at Liz, though.

"Uhm, we're having a meeting in the attic," Young Leo announced. "To figure out what to do next."

"I need a mirror," Liz replied. "I want to try and use my catoptromancy to see what Izax is doing. Figuring that out is the key to unravelling all of this, I'm sure of it."

Leo nodded solemnly. "There's a good half-length mirror in Piper and I's bathroom," he suggested. "You could try and use that one?"

She nodded. "Will do, and then I'll see you guys in the attic." She paused, frowning. "Am I forgetting anything?"

Niko shrugged, reaching out to knead her tense shoulders. "To breathe?" he suggested dryly.

She huffed, kissed him quickly on the lips, then disappeared in a swirl of orbs.

Young Leo gave Niko a wary, suspicious look, and he replied with a sarcastic grin.

"Lead the way, would ya?"

"Of course," Leo muttered, "Follow me, thanks."

Niko waited until Leo's back was turned to roll his eyes. These people were ridiculous.

* * *

Prue couldn't believe it. Even as she sat in the attic, debating with her sisters (all three -or five?- of them) and the other time travellers, she felt as if she were separated from her body.

It wasn't _possible_. Prue was _good_, had always been good. Yes there had been those times when demons or warlocks or whatever had cast enchantments and turned her evil. But she was good at the core of herself, and she had _always_ come back. Always.

How could she turn permanently evil, go so deep into the darkness that she would plot the deaths of her sisters and their families? Of the innocents she had sworn to protect? She could see herself killing Cole for being evil, but not when he had willingly given up his magic to be with Phoebe because he had discovered her plots. This future the time travellers had told them of was all wrong and twisted, even worse than the one with the Witch Hunters and Phoebe being judicially murdered. Her own sisters had tried to ensure her death!

God, what the hell had happened, that her _sisters_, of all the people in the world, would prefer her dead than alive and evil? Of course, Prue herself would rather be dead than turn on everything that she and her family line had ever stood for, but these were her sisters! She simply couldn't get over it, or come to terms with it. That they refused to explain fully what she had done, only that she was meant to die today at Shax's hands and then ended up turning evil when she survived instead, made it worse. The only thing they would say of what she would do after becoming evil was kill Cole when he found her out and later go after her sisters.

Prue couldn't fully believe that, though. Surely not even turning evil would make her forget that her core purpose in life, even more than fighting evil, was to look after her siblings?

The eldest Charmed One's thoughts continued to spin around in circles as she sat on Aunt Pearl's couch in the attic, listening to her sisters argue with their old versions and their half-sister. (And that was another thing. How could Mom and Grams have not revealed that they had another little sister out there? How could Mom have given Paige up and lied to them? Prue had a vague memory of seeing her mother crying and holding a bundle when she was young, but nothing concrete. She could very well be thinking of Mom with Phoebe after Dad left or something.)

Emily, Prue's (future) niece-in-law was sitting in the corner with her husband (and Piper was going to have a son! Grams was going to completely freak out when that happened. What had happened to Melinda from their trip to 2009?) while the suspicious guy with the olive complexion tossed a knife from hand to hand and watched them through bored eyes, as if this was all beneath his notice. Prue didn't trust him, either.

Finally, the argument was broken up by Liz (Prue's niece, apparently, who was also the reincarnation of King Arthur. Prue hadn't even known that people could be reborn as different genders, though it made sense when she thought it through properly. Reincarnation was about seeing all aspects of life, after all.) when she came stalking in. The young woman's chestnut hair was _literally_ sticking up in the air with sparks dancing along the strands and her thin fingers. Her green eyes (more like Prue's and the pictures of their granddad Allen Halliwell than Leo's bluish-green ones) were ablaze with fury and her jaw was tight.

"Liz, what is it?" Wyatt demanded immediately, jumping up and heading over to his seething sister's side. "What'd you see?"

"The fucker_ cheated_!" she shrieked. "How _dare_ he? I'm gonna rip his damn intestines out and choke 'im with them! Who the _fuck _does that asshole think he is?"

"Elizabeth Halliwell, watch your language," Older Piper scolded her daughter on instinct. "Now take a deep breath and explain, because none of us have a clue what or who you're talking about, and the insurance company'll flip if the Manor is blown to pieces again."

Liz followed her mother's instructions, snapping her eyes closed and breathing deeply until she was no longer at risk of starting an electrical fire.

"So?" Niko raised an eyebrow once she was calm again. "What happened?"

"Izax is like me," she explained tightly. "He used a spell, back in the first timeline, to preserve his memories when I changed time. Then he deliberately turned Prue evil, and only the gods know why he decided on her. But that's what happened, gods damn him to the deepest, darkest depths of hell to rot for the rest of eternity. She didn't just have a mental breakdown, she was spelled."

"I knew it!" Piper (the one from Prue's time) cried triumphantly. The others looked a mixture of guilt-stricken and upset. Prue felt herself sag into the couch, still stunned by everything that had happened lately.

"Fuck," Niko stated simply. "So what the hell do we do now?"

"Wait, does this mean that Prue _isn't_ going to die or turn evil?" Phoebe, the Phoebe of Prue's time, asked hopefully. The rest of the family, future or present, all looked hopefully towards Liz, and Prue wondered in the back of her mind how they had ended up looking to her college-age, and as yet unborn, niece for guidance.

Liz was silent for a long minute, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at the dusty mirror in the corner. "Maybe," she said finally. "It'll create a new timeline again, but if we stop Izax from turning her, then... Well, I guess that it's worth a shot."

"So, how do we track him down then?" Wyatt wondered.

"I can do that," Cole interrupted. "I have contacts in the Underworld who'll be able to track him down quickly. But that still leaves vanquishing him. Is there a Power of Three spell in the Book?"

"No need," Liz replied, lifting her mouth in a half smirk that didn't reach her eyes as she pulled a small vial of red blood from her pocket. "He caught scraped in the fight," she explained. "We can use this to make a vanquishing potion, and if we all bless it, it's practically a guarantee that'll work. Still, we should make up a spell too. Just in case something goes wrong."

"Right then," Older Piper agreed, clapping her hands loudly. "Let's move it people! Times a wasting!"

Prue cornered Liz in the hallway, dragging her into Prue's bedroom.

"You know, if you wanna talk about something, there are easier ways to do it," Liz drawled. "Like, I dunno, asking politely to talk to me?"

Prue clenched her jaw and nodded. "Well, I need to talk to you, do you mind?" she replied, slightly sarcastically. Liz gave a curt smirk and nodded sharply.

"Yeah sure. Not like I have anything else to do, like make sure you don't go 'round the bend and start a campaign to kill us all," she answered in an overly-chirrupy voice.

Prue hid a flinch, then exhaled. She had to do this, she reminded herself. She had to.

"I need you to make a promise to me," she said to her niece, meeting her eyes. Liz lost her darkly-amused attitude and turned serious.

"What?"

"Promise me," Prue began, throat dry. "That if Izax manages to turn me evil, you'll kill me before I do anything to hurt my sisters."

Liz studied her seriously for several long moments, then gave a nod. "If it comes to that, I won't let you hurt anybody," she vowed. Prue slumped in relief. If anybody would do it, this war-hardened girl that was her niece, would.


	16. The End of the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final confrontation with Izax.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Epilogue/conclusion next.**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**The End of the Road**

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: May 2nd, 2001** _

Tracking down Izax had not been a problem. Liz, aided by three lifetimes' worth of experience with the demon and the vial of blood, had been able to find him easily enough using scrying. She had drawn a detailed map of the Underworld and then quickly tracked him down to the centre of the demonic black market.

"He won't leave it," she warned the rest of them. "He knows that he can't handle us separately without the advantage of us not knowing he's there. He has no chance at all of handling all of us together, and definitely not when we have knowledge on him. He'll stay in the black market, where he has the advantage of home territory and allies. But if things goes too badly for the demons then I expect that he'll go for a crowded mortal area, where we'd be hampered by the need to protect innocents and magic."

"So then we need to make sure that he stays in the market," Prue declared.

"Yeah, we can handle them," Older Piper agreed. "Remember Phoebe, Paige? Just after Wyatt's birth, the first time he was attacked by those two, the hawker and mercenary demons? We destroyed the entire market to teach 'em a lesson about going after my kids. Looks like we need to repeat that class."

"I'll put up the wards to keep 'em from making a run for it," Liz offered, a smirk tugging at her lips.

The Halliwells all exchanged cold smiles with one another. It wasn't as if they were fond of fighting (save for Liz, perhaps) but they all shared the inherent Halliwell hatred for evil and protectiveness for each other. Now that they knew the truth about what had happened to Prue, they wanted revenge, and they would get it.

What nobody voiced, but everyone was thinking, was that, should they manage to defeat Izax without him enchanting Prue, then she could live out her life properly, instead of dying years too early and shattering her sisters' hearts. There was also the possibility of her being spelled and it being reversed, seeing as they knew the problem now. They had done so before, after all.

But if not, Liz would do what had to be done. She would never allow Evil to go above ground again so long as she had breath in her body to prevent it. She had once sworn to kill her own brother as an infant before letting him turn evil and wreck havoc on the world. Killing an aunt who had died before her birth in two lifetimes and tortured and hunted her in a third would be a piece of cake in comparison to that.

"Are we ready, then?" she asked, meeting everyone's eyes. "Everyone has the plan memorized?"

"The plan, and the back-up plan, and the back-up plan for the back-up plan, plus the back-up plan for the back-up plan's back-up plan too," Paige drawled with a sarcastic nod. "Yup, I think I got it stuck in my head after repetition number, uhm, what was it, thirty-three? Thirty-four?"

Liz ignored the sarcasm with the skill of long practice. "So, is everybody ready then?" she repeated.

They all exchanged looks. Emily, Wyatt, the baby and Younger Leo would be staying back in the Manor with Cole as their guard (much to Prue's distaste.). The rest of them would be going down to the Underworld to find Izax and vanquish him thoroughly, with Older Leo standing by to provide healing if needs be.

"I should be coming with," Wyatt muttered unhappily. "I can help."

"_Usually,_ you can help," Liz corrected him unsympathetically. "But your powers are still gone. If you came, you'd only get in the way. You're better off staying here, where we won't be distracted looking after you and worrying that you'll get hit by an energy ball."

He huffed and Emily patted his arm gently.

"When this is over," Wyatt complained softly to his wife. "And we get back home, the first thing I'm gonna do is get Aunt Phoebe to start working on me with hand-to-hand. Then I'll never be so useless again."

"You have never been useless in your life," she scolded him back quietly, as the others organized themselves to go. "And personally, _I_ am very glad that you're not going. I feel much safer with you here with me and Mattie."

His frown lightened and he leaned in to press his lips against her forehead. Sometimes the Halliwells forgot that other families, even magical ones, didn't live in the same state of constant danger that the Warren witch line did. For Wyatt and Liz, this wasn't a_ typical _Tuesday, but it wasn't very out of the ordinary, either. For Emily, however, it was a constant struggle to keep from breaking down from the stress of everything.

"Okay," Prue set her shoulders, drawing everybody's attention. "Let's do this."

The fighters all linked hands with a teleporter, and disappeared in a shimmer of light blue and white orbs.

"Now what do we do?" Wyatt wondered. Save for when Liz had gone with DJ and Joss to save Niko, he had never been in this position before.

"Now, we wait," Leo, who had been in the position of staying behind and worrying over the fate of his wife and sisters-in-law far more times than he ever wanted to count, sighed in response.

Mattie, perhaps picking up on the tension in the air, started to cry, and nothing his parents, grandfather or great-uncle did could calm his sobs.

* * *

_ **Demonic** ** Market: May 2nd, 2001** _

They didn't bother being subtle about their arrival. Or rather, the younger Charmed Ones didn't. It was all part of the plan formed by Liz. Whilst the present Charmed Ones appeared in an ostentatious swirl of bright lights, the rest materialized behind a stall, Liz quickly choking the vendor to death with her telekinesis before he could do anything to alert any others to their presence.

Chaos was already spreading through the market, stalls alight and demons rushing around. Some ran at the Charmed Ones in a fit of rash bravery (or else suicidal insanity), whilst others tried to flee, only to discover the wards Liz had conjured prevented them from leaving the area.

"There," Paige hissed finally after they had spent several (seemingly eternal) minutes slipping through the battle and fire-engulfed demonic market in search of their enemy. She was jabbing her finger at a figure with dark-blue skin covered in army green tattoos and symbols on the other side of the street from them. "That's him!"

"Izax!" Liz hissed the name like a curse, glowering at the demon like he was the living incarnation of all her troubles. (To be fair to the heir to Excalibur, in this situation he actually was).

The demon was crouching in a corner, staring around in search of either an escape or else any sign of the rest of his enemies.

She made to storm towards him and kill him, but she never got the chance. Another upper-level demon stumbled in between the Halliwells' group and their target. Liz defeated him with ease, but in the process a tent fell down, pinning Phoebe's leg beneath a pole and sending flames racing over the dry grass that covered the ground in a thin and patchy layer. Phoebe's head slammed back against the cobblestones, and her eyes closed as a small pool of crimson blood began to form around her head, soaking her brunette hair.

"Phoebe!" Piper and Paige cried at the sight of their sister's injury. Piper rushed to freeze the flames, while Paige orbed the middle Charmed Sister out of danger and into her arms, cradling her protectively to her chest.

Unfortunately, they had alerted Izax to their location, and he was quick to take advantage of the chance their concern for Phoebe gave him to disappear into the crowds again.

"Damnit!" Liz spat in anger. Niko was at her heels as she raced after her quarry, both of them forcing their way through the thick mob of demons. They made liberal use of their skills as they hurried, but Liz had a sickening feeling in her stomach. Something in her instincts told her that, yet again, their plan had gone wrong.

"Can you see him?" she called to the others, as they regrouped in the square. "Does anyone know where he went?"

The others shook their heads, worried expressions on their faces. Older Phoebe was in Leo's arms, being healed, and she groaned and rubbed her temples as she came back to consciousness.

Liz cried out in horrified panic a second later as she suddenly felt a warning come from her bond to her brother. "Wyatt!" she exclaimed. "Oh, goddess be good! He's gone to the Manor again!"

"We need to go!" Prue declared immediately. Everyone again latched onto each other, and disappeared as fast as they could manage.

* * *

_ **Halliwell Manor, San Francisco: May 2nd, 2001** _

Wyatt stood protectively between his wife, who had wedged herself and their newborn son in the corner, and the demon who was giving him a smug grin. The young version of his father lay sprawled unconscious on the floor, whilst Cole was bleeding from a wound to the stomach, helpless to do anything more than watch.

"Do you not want more than this, Wyatt?" Izax murmured to him, voice coaxing. "You had so much potential, you know. Such a shame, do you not feel so hurt and angry, knowing how you were betrayed by your own sister? The person you trust most of all in the world?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wyatt replied stoically, refusing to play along with the demon's attempt at manipulating him. "But my sister would_ never _betray me. And I have everything I could ever want already."

"So she never said a word," Izax sighed heavily and shook his head in mock sympathy. "Not a word about how she stole the title of heir to Excalibur from you, nothing about how you nearly destroyed yourself trying to build a utopia where everyone, mortal, magical and more, could live together in peace and harmony. One she turned to nothing more than the ashes of a memory for her own gain."

"Bullshit!" Liz snapped, appearing with the others in a swirl of lights. She glared emerald daggers at the demon as she appeared. "Everything you just said is twisted!"

"Ah, but that depends on how you see it, does it not?" Izax gave a smirk.

Liz glared at him bitterly, realizing what he was doing. Izax had lost and he knew it. But he could still damage the Halliwell bond that gave them their power. And he was determined not to die without destroying their relationship with her brother.

"After all, can you deny that your brother held the title of heir to Excalibur in the first timeline?" Izax asked her.

She gritted her teeth, barely noticing her companions. "No, I do not," she grudgingly acknowledged. "But he was not the rightful heir. I-"

"And do you deny that he spent years building a society in which mortals and magicals lived side-by-side?"

"In terror!" Liz shrieked. "That was a fucking police state, with slavery and rapes happening right on the street! Demons running amok above ground and witches in chains! I'd have burned the whole globe to the ground a dozen times over before letting events repeat themselves!"

Izax laughed and spun back to face Wyatt, who was stunned and confused by the conversation, along with pretty much everyone else. "You see?" he crooned to the Twice-Blessed child. "I was right!" He turned back to Liz, a vicious grin on his face.

"Go on then, General," he urged her. "Go on and tell them how you plotted to murder your own brother as an infant. How saving him was not your _first_ idea, but your _last_. How it was your fiancé who suggested you try and save him, because he feared how killing an infant would affect you."

Liz swallowed, her eyes drifting past her enemy to meet Wyatt's look. The disbelief in his blue-green orbs cut her to the quick, and she inhaled shakily.

"It's true," she whispered. "In the first timeline, Wyatt was the Source, and he was far, far worse than any other.

I had originally planned to kill him as a baby, after saving Paige from the Titans to keep the Power of Three intact and gain Mom and the aunts' trust. Niko suggested I try to save you, for my sake, but I planned on going through with it anyway. I didn't think that I could outwit a demon that got past the Charmed Ones at the height of their power. I didn't think it was worth the risk.

But then, I just couldn't do it. I held an athame to your throat while you slept in your cot, but you woke up and I just, you were a _baby._

I didn't want to try and save you. I wanted to do the easy thing and just kill you. I didn't have anything except hatred left for you by then in that life. I didn't change my mind out of any noble reason, and I really _would_ have gone through with it if we hadn't managed to stop Gideon.

I decided to try and save you because I didn't want to kill a baby. That's all."

Her eyes were locked with Wyatt's, his own filled with betrayal and hurt. Everyone was so stunned by her confession, none of them realized that Niko had moved until Izax was bursting into flames from the vanquishing potion-coated athame that had sunk into his chest.

Nothing more could be done or said before the world began dissolving all around them, sweeping the time travellers back to where they were meant to be.


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath

**Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. I'm glad you've all enjoyed this story! Please check out my other stories too, I have two other Charmed fics: Ashes of a Rising Phoenix and Wisdom's Memories, both of which also have fem!Chris as main characters.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Epilogue**

_ **Halliwell Manor, 1329 Prescott Street, San Francisco: May 2** _ _ **nd** _ _ **, 2001** _

The group stared in shock at the space where the time travellers had suddenly disappeared from. There had been no warning, only a flash of colourless light right after Izax had burst into flames after being vanquished by Niko. Then the time travellers were gone.

"What happened?" Phoebe asked, looking at Cole and Leo for an explanation. Cole was the one to answer her inquiry.

"They don't belong to this time. When Izax was vanquished, it erased their timelines completely, so they were sent back to where they should be, chronologically."

"Cole is correct."

They started and spun, finding themselves face-to-face with Sandra, who looked solemn and tired.

"They have returned to where they are supposed to be," she continued. "Whilst your other-selves have been erased along with their timeline. And now, you must forget what has happened, until the time has come that you are able to remember."

"Excuse me," Prue narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Are you saying that you're going to mess with our memories of what happened? No way, that's not happening."

"Agreed," Piper bit out, eyes flashing. She thought of forgetting the faces of her yet-unborn children, and felt her chest ache in grief at the mere thought.

"We won't do it," Phoebe agreed, the three Charmed Ones standing together in the pose they used to invoke their sacred Power of Three, hands linked with Prue in the middle.

"It will not be forever," Sandra insisted placatingly, raising her hands in a soothing motion. "Only until you catch up with the timeline your children came from. Then, your memories will be restored to you. But if you do not do this, then the paradox will not complete itself, and in the best-case scenario, your children will be erased from existence."

The sisters faltered at that, Piper and Leo both paling and exchanging stricken looks. There had been no time for them to spend time learning the nuances of their future children's personalities, but they had loved them both immediately. The thought of either Wyatt or Liz never existing was heart-shattering.

"What's the worst-case scenario?" Prue asked warily, one hand resting on Piper's shoulder.

"The universe may fracture," Sandra stated frankly.

The sisters exchanged looks.

"What about Prue?" Phoebe asked softly. "They said, in the original timeline, she died yesterday. Does this mean that-?"

"She will not die," Sandra assured them hastily. "But, regrettably, you will believe she did. It is necessary, to bring Paige into your lives and allow Destiny to continue on its course. However, once the timeline has caught up to itself, then you shall be reunited with one another once again."

Piper let out a harsh sob, turning to bury her face in Prue's shoulder. Phoebe was quick to join them, and the sisters held each other tightly as they grieved for the years together that they would lose.

"For that nephew and niece of mine, there's nothing I wouldn't do," Prue whispered to Piper, teary-eyed. "Make sure to take photos of everything, okay? I'll want to know every detail of what I missed, when I come back."

"We love you," Phoebe whimpered, whilst Piper held on tighter, body shaking from the force of her sobs.

"I love you too," Prue choked out. They continued to cling to each other for a while longer, before separating with great reluctance.

Sandra took Prue's hand, the sisters all locking their gazes, then dissolved into orbs, waving her hand as she orbed away with Prue in tow.

The air shimmered, and then stilled again.

"Oh my god," Piper whispered, staring around at the destroyed house with a stricken expression. Phoebe was white as a sheet, one hand pressed against her mouth and shaking her head in desperate denial of the truth.

Lying in the debris of the wall was Prue, her green eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

"Prue!" Piper wailed, collapsing to her knees. "Oh god, please no. Not Prue."

"Piper," Leo said helplessly, falling down beside her and pulling her into his arms.

"My sister," Phoebe sobbed. "Oh god, why her? It should have been me, not her. God please, take me instead."

Cole held her in his arms, his expression grim. He hadn't gotten along with Prue Halliwell, but he hadn't wanted her to die. "It's gonna be okay," he promised his lover futilely.

He knew that this grief would follow her for the rest of her life. How would the Charmed Ones ever survive, with only two sisters instead of three? Not just because demons were sure to take advantage of their sudden vulnerability, but also because they had always been a trio, never a pair. It didn't seem right, thinking of Piper and Phoebe, instead of Prue, Piper and Phoebe. A key part of them had been lost forever.

"I've got you, Phoebe. The Source'll pay for this. It's gonna be okay."

Neither sister would accept their beloved's attempts at comfort, sobbing and grieving the worst loss they had ever experienced in their battle-filled lives.

* * *

_ **Halliwell Manor, 1329 Prescott Street, San Francisco: June 12th, 2026** _

The entire Halliwell clan was in the middle of dinner when ghost-like versions of Liz, Wyatt, Emily, Mattie and Niko all appeared and promptly merged with their counterparts.

Mattie started howling, and Paige had to hastily orb the baby to herself, as Emily had dropped him in the shock of suddenly receiving the other memories. Wyatt was gripping his blonde curls, his fingers digging into his scalp painfully, and staring in shock at Liz, who was bent over and doing a breathing exercise to keep from losing control of her powers. Despite her best efforts, lightning made her hair frizz in its' plait, and sparks of fire flickered on her fingertips. A gust of white frost left her mouth with each exhale she gave. Niko was staring blankly at the wall opposite him, trying to deal with the sudden onslaught of memories.

"What the-?" Cole began to ask, only for his own memories to return. There was chaos in the Manor for some time, as everyone tried to sort out what was going on.

They were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Piper and Phoebe froze, exchanging looks of desperate hope with one another before racing to the door.

Piper flung it open, and fell to her knees a second later at the sight of Prue, a watery smile on her face and surrounded by a pair of dark-haired girls and Andy.

"What, how?" Phoebe gasped out, tears falling freely. The entire family had followed them, and was staring in bemusement at the sight. "Andy, how-?"

"Hey, Leo's not the only Whitelighter to marry a Halliwell sister, you know," the ex-cop grinned. Phoebe let out a wet laugh, then a second later she, Piper and Prue were all hugging each other desperately, as if they wanted to merge into one person.

"Paige, Paige, Paige," Phoebe twisted in the embrace and reached out for the youngest Charmed One, who was hesitating at her husband's side. "It's Prue! Come and meet her properly Paige. Oh my god, I can't believe we're all together!"

Paige smiled shyly as she joined the hug, but Prue grabbed onto her as tightly as she had grabbed onto the others, and soon enough they were all sobbing and embracing as if they had never been happier in their lives. Maybe they hadn't been, as family meant everything to the Halliwells, and their family had never been complete before, always having somebody missing.

Meanwhile, Wyatt had drifted to the attic. Liz had followed him, wearing a guarded expression.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" the young man asked, not looking at his sister.

Liz pursed her lips, crossing her arms and looking away. "I had my reasons," she said evasively.

"What reasons are those?" he pressed. "'Cause I'da thought that telling me I was the Source of All Evil and you tried to kill me as a baby were kind of important for me to know."

"No, they weren't," Liz replied coldly. "What would telling you have achieved? That timeline is gone, forever! You're good, you can't even eat chocolate before dinner without feeling guilty. Telling you anything about that lifetime would have done nothing but hurt us both."

"Tell me, please," Wyatt begged, finally turning to look at her. Her reluctance was obvious on her expression and in her body language, but he pushed anyway. "I have to know, Lizziebet. I have to know what I did that was so bad you could want to murder me before I even had a chance to live."

"Fine!" she snapped, twisting on her heel so she didn't have to see his face as she spoke. "Fine. You wanna know so badly? Alright then. I'll tell you.

The Titans killed Aunt Paige in that timeline, and exposed magic in the process. Mom and Aunt Phoebe eventually managed to stop them, but only after the mortals had dropped three nukes in various places: San Francisco, Scotland, and Paris. The world was in ruins. Magic was exposed, and witches were blamed for everything that had happened.

We were on the run my whole life. My earliest memory is of a safe house. Or rather, of running away from a compromised safe house while Witch Hunters fired on it with automatics.

They had no sympathy or mercy, a witch was a witch in their eyes. Even infants and pregnant women would be tortured and burned to death, solely for being related to a witch. Most of the time, they didn't even catch real witches, 'cause the Whitelighters would orb them away. They killed mortals instead, to satisfy their bloodlust.

Their prisoners were branded like cattle, different codes for gender, species and powers, so as to differentiate between them. Mine was 46WED22, altogether it stood for female Resistance member, high-ranking, Witch-Whitelighter Hybrid, and the twenty-two meant I had a connection to you. I was fifteen when they carved the damn thing into my left forearm. Never wore short sleeves again in that lifetime, 'cause I'd've been executed if someone saw it."

Wyatt was pale, but they both knew Liz's story was only going to get worse.

"When the two of us were still babies, Mom, Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Cole founded the Underground, an organization dedicating to getting witches to safety. But they never tried to attack, no matter how many people pressed for it. Mom used to tell us that what was happening wasn't the mortals' fault, that they were grieving and needed an outlet for that grief. She would say that we couldn't let ourselves strike back, because that would turn us into the monsters they called us. But we were both just kids, and it was easier to be angry at being hunted for abilities we were born with than to forgive our friends being burned at the stake for the same crime.

We were both angry, but you were the one who always danced on the edge. I dunno why I didn't, I guess I was always half-afraid of my own powers. You always used to say that if we were more powerful, we'd be able to stop the mortals hunting us. I just wanted not to have them in the first place. But until the Event, you never went through with anything.

Then, Mom and Aunt Phoebe were both killed when our safe house was betrayed. Uncle Cole had died saving a couple of kids two years earlier. The two of us got away with Grandpa, but you went insane. Ran off and the next time that I saw you, you were organizing demons in the Underworld.

I tried to bind or strip your powers first, but you nearly killed me. So, I went back to the Underground. I warned them what was happening, and we prepared.

We were in all-out war, the Resistance versus you, and the Witch Hunters against us both, by the end of the year after Mom and Aunt Phoebe died. But I'll spare you the grizzly details of the battles, the executions and the tortures. The way you had Magic School converted into your prison, because the spells to prevent unnatural death within it meant that the captives could be tortured for however long the wardens wanted.

Or rather, I will spare _myself_, because you know what Wyatt?" She turned, glaring at him but unable to hide the shattered expression in her dark green eyes. "I'm just not interested in reliving the worst period of _any_ of my lives, solely so that you can torture yourself with actions that you never committed."

"Liz," Niko and Emily had arrived at some point, both concerned for their partners.

She stormed over to her husband, grasping his hand. "Let's get the heck out of here, Firebird," she suggested to him, voice ragged with tears that she refused to let herself shed.

"Sounds good, Angel," he agreed softly, knowing there was only one way for Liz to effectively channel her emotions in this state. "I heard from a cousin of mine that there's gonna be some sort of multi-clan gathering for the Celerity demons down in the Underworld tonight. How about we go and crash their party?"

"Sounds like just what I need," she replied bitterly, before they both disappeared, Liz in a shower of light blue and white orbs, Niko in a series of shimmers.

Emily, meanwhile, went to her own husband. He was frozen in place, staring bleakly at the spot his younger sister had disappeared from.

"How are we gonna get through this, Em?" he asked in despair. "Everything else- everything else seems like kids' stuff in comparison to all of this."

"I don't know how you'll get through it," Emily admitted quietly. "But you will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've never seen a sister who loves her brother as much as Liz loves you, or a more adoring elder brother," she answered him frankly. "The two of you love each other too much, and hate demons too much, to ever let one of them break your bond.

You'll get through this too, Wyatt. I promise."


End file.
